


Waiting for Worlds

by macca (NelyafinweFeanorion)



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Canon Relationships, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Growing Up, Ice Skating, M/M, Post canon, St. Petersburg, older age characters, snuggling in Viktor's apartment, takes place a few years later than series
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-28
Updated: 2017-10-09
Packaged: 2018-09-12 22:13:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 25,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9092779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NelyafinweFeanorion/pseuds/macca
Summary: Victor and Yuuri in St. Petersburg, a few years after events in YOI season 1. Things have gotten challenging recently for the skaters preparing for Nationals. Nighttime musings by Yuuri with some input from Viktor. Follows Victor, Yuuri, Yuri, Otabek and Yakov.Fluff but I just wanted to head canon where they would be a while down the road.





	1. Chapter 1

 

Viktor had taken Yakov’s heart attack the hardest. Yuuri doubted the others realized this but he knew; he was the one who held Viktor the night it happened. He was the one Viktor poured his worries to, late at night. He was the one who saw how exhausted Viktor was.

 

Yakov was recovering but his return to coaching was unlikely. Viktor, having officially retired after the Grand Prix Final in December, had taken over coaching Yakov’s stable of skaters in the senior coach’s absence, as well as continuing to coach Yuuri.

 

Yuuri held Viktor in his arms and stroked his silver hair, murmuring to him softly as he did so. It had been another grueling practice session and Viktor’s frustration was palpable.

 

Was it only a few weeks ago, when they had stood on the podium together at the Grand Prix Final? Yuuri glanced at the wall, where Viktor had hung Yuuri’s second Grand Prix gold medal, in the place of pride above the fireplace, the shadow box containing not only Yuuri’s gold, but the program and photos of his performance as well. 

 

It made Yuuri blush every time he looked at it but he tolerated it—it made Viktor so happy. It had taken a lot of convincing from Yuuri to get Viktor to put his own silver from that day in the shadow box, but he had finally relented, because he knew it made Yuuri happy. There was little he could refuse Yuuri. He was sure Yurio's bronze from the Grand Prix did not have as prized a location, but it still made him smile to think that the three of them had shared a podium in victory, sweeping the medals. His smile faded a bit as he looked down at Viktor.

 

Viktor had been so full of pride for Yuuri that day. He was sure Viktor did not know that Yuuri had seen the flash of disappointment that briefly crossed Viktor’s face when he was announced as the silver medalist. The look had instantly been replaced by tears of joy and pride when Yuuri’s gold medal win was announced but Yuuri knew it had been hard for Viktor to not be the one to win the gold, no matter how much he wanted Yuuri to win it.

 

Viktor had announced his retirement soon after. He and Yuuri had discussed it together ahead of the announcement. Almost thirty years old, Viktor was past the prime age for most skaters, despite his continued spectacular performances. His old injuries were catching up to him and Yuuri knew from the anti-inflammatories Viktor would take after practice and the heating pads he would use before going to bed.

 

They were both at peace with the decision. Yuuri knew it was unrealistic of him to expect Viktor to skate forever, no matter how hard he wished otherwise. Yuuri himself had contemplated making this his last season. At twenty-seven, he knew his time to shine on the ice was limited.

 

They had reached their shared goal of skating together as competitors and the culmination of Viktor’s expectation and Yuuri’s dream—the Grand Prix gold medal. They had discussed Yuuri retiring after Worlds but Viktor wanted Yuuri to wait until after Worlds to make his final decision—their final decision, Yuuri amended. They knew better than to make those kinds of decisions alone anymore.

 

He knew even Yurio was happy for them. “Now will you marry this damn katsudon, Viktor and turn into a boring, old, married couple and stop being all over each other all the time?” Yurio had grumbled, as Yuuri had climbed the podium at the Grand Prix Final.

 

Viktor had laughed, taking Yuuri’s hand and kissing his ring. “I’d do it right now, if I could!” Which was why all the photos of them on the podium showed Yuuri blushing furiously.

 

Yurio had been decent about the bronze. It had been a frustrating year for him. He had gone through a tremendous growth spurt when he had turned sixteen and his new body had not settled comfortably for him yet. He was taller than Viktor now, which wreaked havoc with his spins and jumps. The added weight—all muscle—had nonetheless subtracted from his natural grace, making jumps far less easy and his step sequences choppier.

 

Now at seventeen, he was finally finding his way again but he had not found the ideal solution to harnessing his new power cohesively with his changed appearance. It was better but he was still struggling.

 

Yakov’s heart attack, the day after their return to St. Petersburg and the first day they had resumed practices, had shaken them all. Viktor had announced his official retirement and stepped into the role of coach, Georgi—who had retired the previous year—returned to St. Petersburg to assist him.

 

It was draining for Viktor. He was still new to coaching in general and had only really coached Yuuri. It was a different situation coaching a group of skaters who were used to a experienced, veteran coach.

 

The skaters were shaken and Viktor needed to keep up a steady, comforting front for them, even though he was struggling in his new role as well. They often took out their frustrations on him—they still treated Viktor at times as a fellow skater and that made his job as coach even harder, as he tried to enforce the discipline Yakov had expected of them.

 

Nationals were one week away. Japan’s were two days later. Yuuri would travel on his own, ahead of Viktor and Viktor would follow once he had guided his skaters through the Russian Nationals.

 

They had been apart before but it had been awhile. Yuuri was not as worried about Nationals—Minami would be a worthy challenger—but Yuuri had confidence in his programs and Viktor was confident in him, which made all the difference.

 

He smiled as he realized Viktor had fallen asleep, his head on Yuuri’s chest. He kept stroking Viktor’s hair, thinking again how lucky he was to have Viktor in his life.

 

They had talked about Yuuri retiring after Worlds. They were both comfortable with that decision, if that was what Yuuri wanted after that last competition of the year. Yakov’s heart attack had not altered that scenario but it had put some doubt into what they would do after Worlds.

 

Viktor had talked about returning to Hasetsu, leaving skating behind for a while. Yuuri had urged Viktor to consider coaching but Viktor had joked that the only skater he wanted to coach was Yuuri.

 

He had talked to Celestino about choreographing programs. And not only for Celestino’s skaters—other coaches had approached Viktor as word of his retirement spread. They all knew how powerful Viktor’s choreography was.

 

As for himself? He was content returning to Hasetsu and taking Yuuko up on her offer to have Yuuri become the Ice Castle’s premiere skating instructor. He was actually looking forward to introducing young skaters to the beauty and joy of the ice.

 

But all that was uncertain again now. With Yakov out of the picture Viktor was responsible for coaching at least through Worlds. The question was what would happen after that?

 

Yuuri knew Viktor would continue, if Yakov asked him to do so. He would find it hard to refuse his former mentor and coach. It would be just as hard to keep doing it though. So many skaters were draining Viktor—Yuuri could see that. His inexperience was evident, especially with the women skaters—he was far less familiar with their issues, their programs, their style. He would continue to coach them if he had to, but Yuuri wished he could spare him the hardship.

 

Yuuri knew from personal experience that Viktor was in his element with one or two skaters. More than that distracted him and diluted his efforts.

 

He shifted slightly, his arm numb now. To his regret, even this minimal motion on his part woke Viktor, who looked up at him sleepily with his brilliant blue eyes.

 

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” Yuuri said, “I know you are so tired.”

 

“I didn’t mean to fall asleep and crush you,” Viktor said, sitting up on the sofa now.

 

“You know I don’t mind being crushed by you,” Yuuri smiled, gratified to see an answering smile on Viktor’s face at his words. “And I’m not surprised you fell asleep. You had a long day again.”

 

“Every day is a long day,” Viktor replied, raking his hand through his hair, disheveling it in the way Yuuri loved. He took Yuuri’s hand in his own, gently rubbing the ring on Yuuri’s finger. “I should be focusing on helping you prepare for Nationals,” Viktor said. “I am not being a good coach.”

 

“You are,” Yuuri assured him. “I’m getting hours of practice time.”

 

“But not with my undivided attention, moya lyubov,” Viktor stated.

 

“It is enough, Viktor. We both know the programs well. They were good enough at the Grand Prix and can only get better with all the repetition I’m getting,” Yuuri reassured him.

 

Viktor sighed. “I wish I could get Georgi to do more but they listen to him even less than they listen to me,” Viktor complained.

 

He brought Yuuri’s hand to his lips and kissed it. “I’ve decided to speak to Yakov after Nationals.” He looked at Yuuri intently. “I will take them through Worlds—I promised Yakov I would and I will keep my word. It is the right thing to do. I can’t leave them before the season is over.” He dropped his head onto the back of the sofa wearily. “But after Worlds they will need to find a new coach or coaches. I cannot continue like this. “ He stared at the ceiling and then closed his eyes. “ I can consider coaching one or two, if they are willing.” He turned his head to look at Yuuri. “But it will have to be in Japan. Once Worlds are over I want to do what we said we would do—return to Hasetsu together.”

 

“Plans change, Viktor. We can always go back. It doesn’t have to be after Worlds if that timing doesn’t make sense.”

 

Viktor sat up. “It makes sense to me,” he said curtly. He sighed again and squeezed Yuuri’s hand. “I’ve dedicated my life to skating, Yuuri. I was ready to live life for myself, with my love by my side, two years ago.” He put up his hand as Yuuri tried to speak. “No, don’t apologize, my Yuuri. These two years have been the best in my life, even if I wasn’t winning as often.” He reached out to touch Yuuri’s lips with his thumb. “Because I had my love, even if we didn’t really have a life outside skating. With you beside me it became a joy again.” He laid his hand on Yuuri’s cheek, cupping his face. “But my life is not about staying in St. Petersburg to coach Russia’s top skaters. It’s about marrying you and moving to Hasetsu like we discussed.” He leaned forward to place his forehead against Yuuri’s. “I want that life.”

 

“What will Yakov say?”

 

“What can he say? I will bring them through this season. There is enough time for him to find a new coach or coaches before then. He knows how much he has asked of me. He knows my heart is not in staying. Yakov will understand.” He smiled at Yuuri, his face so close all Yuuri could see was Viktor’s eyes. “He knows how I feel about you, he knows how important you are to me.”

 

“Yurio might not be so understanding,” Yuuri said, pulling back and raising his eyebrows at Viktor.

 

“Yurio had no problem coming to Japan the first time. I have no doubt he will follow us. He’s used to my coaching now, as much as he complains about it. He demands my choreography and he will need your help with his step sequences if he keeps growing!”

 

“You really think he’ll come?” Yuuri asked.

 

“I don’t think I could stop him,” Viktor laughed. “He said as much after practice tonight.” Viktor leaned back again. “I stayed late to work with him alone tonight. He’s making progress, growing used to his height and gaining more control over his power,” Viktor smiled at Yuuri. “He asked me again when we were getting married. He said he’d rather be coached by an old, married couple than two ridiculous losers that can’t keep their hands off each other.”

 

Yuuri blushed. “We do not do that in public all the time,” he said primly.

 

“Well, you might not, but you know I can’t keep my hands off you. It irritates me that I can’t stay as close to you now that I have to coach all these others.”

 

“That doesn’t mean he would come to Japan. JJ’s coaches are an old, married couple,” Yuuri teased.

 

Viktor laughed again. “You have a death wish if you mention JJ to Yurio!” he said. “No, Yurio said tonight he misses the peacefulness of the Ice Castle. He will come to us, to have us coach him.”

 

“So will that mean you’ll be coaching Otabek soon after?” Yuuri said, with a grin at Viktor.

 

Viktor laughed, his face more relaxed than Yuuri had seen it for weeks. “It would not surprise me. You saw them at the Grand Prix—they were inseparable—they only parted when one of them was on the ice.” He put his arm around Yuuri and pulled him close, Yuuri resting his head on Viktor’s shoulder contentedly. “They have barely seen each other these past two years. I think they would both welcome the chance to be together and see how that feels.”

 

“Our kitten has turned into the tiger he always wanted to be,” Yuuri said.

 

“He’s going to be taller than Otabek by Worlds, if he keeps growing,” Viktor said.

 

“Somehow I don’t think Otabek will mind,” Yuuri answered.

 

“I’m not feeling as tired as I was,” Viktor said, with an expression on his face and a look in his eyes that was familiar to Yuuri, even though he hadn’t seen it much recently. Viktor leaned into Yuuri. “Not tired at all,” he said, his lips closing over Yuuri’s, as their legs tangled on the sofa and Viktor’s hands buried themselves in Yuuri’s hair.

 

Yurio noted they were both yawning more than usual at practice the next day and giving each other those looks every time they came near each other. He shook his head. Disgusting.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

Yurio leaned into his computer screen; it made him feel like Otabek was closer that way—not miles away on Skype.

“How’s Yakov?” Otabek asked.

“He’s better,” Yurio grimaced. “But Lilia’s moved in again and she fusses over him so much it’s disgusting.”

“It’s good he has someone who can look out for him,” Otabek said, a thoughtful look crossing his face.

“You don’t have to live with them!” Yurio protested. “It’s bad enough at practice, with Viktor all over his katsudon, but now I have to deal with this disgusting stuff at home too.”

“How is Viktor?” Otabek asked. “I’m sure this has been stressful for him.”

“Huh? For him? I’m the one who lost my coach and have to deal with Viktor playing at coaching!” Yurio argued.

Otabek gave Yurio a frown. “Viktor retired to coach Katsuki through what may be his last season. He never expected to be coaching the entire Russian team!” Otabek looked at him intently. “You need to be a bit more understanding, Yuratchka. He’s giving up a lot to do this. And so is Katsuki.”

Yurio hated to admit Otabek was probably right, so he didn’t. He also hated to admit how much he liked it when Otabek called him Yuratchka. He softened his tone as he answered. “He’s still coaching the katsudon—it’s not like he’s stopped.”

“But he can’t focus on just Katsuki now. You know they were going to go to Japan together for the Nationals and stay there through Worlds. All that has changed now.”

“Huh? How do you know that?” Yurio asked, frowning now himself.

“I talked to Viktor at Skate Canada. And at the Cup of China. And at the Grand Prix,” Otabek said.

Yurio’s eyebrows lowered and his expression darkened. “How can it be possible that three years in a row you and I don’t get assigned to any of the same Grand Prix qualifying events?”

“You know it’s random. At least I got to see you at the Final,” Otabek said.

“That was the only good thing about the Final,” Yurio grumbled. “If you hadn’t been there I would have been stuck with Viktor and his katsudon, Chris, probably Phichit and that fucking JJ! It would have been intolerable.”

Otabek couldn’t help himself from smiling a little at his words. Yurio still hadn’t forgiven JJ for being so annoying at the Grand Prix Final two years ago and he still insisted that Otabek should have gotten the bronze; JJ’s score had been ridiculous. He certainly went into Ice Tiger mode on that subject, Otabek thought fondly.

“So what did Viktor say to you?” Yurio asked.

“What I told you. They were going to go to Japan for Nationals and Worlds and then stay there permanently. Viktor is planning to continue to coach Katsuki, as long as he chooses to stay skating, with their home rink in Japan, not St. Petersburg, now that Viktor is not competing anymore.” Otabek explained. 

“Huh,” Yurio was thoughtful now. He remembered hearing Viktor babble on about returning to Hasetsu but he had learned to tune out Viktor when he wasn’t talking about his skating. It was too annoying to listen to him talk about the other Yuri. 

He certainly complained about them and their ridiculous shows of affection but he hadn’t really thought about what it would be like to not have them around anymore. Yurio found he really didn’t like the idea.

“I know it’s a lot of pressure on Viktor,” Otabek continued. “I could tell when I spoke to him last week.”

Yurio narrowed his eyes. “Why are you speaking to Viktor?”

“I choreographed my own programs this year, Yura. I also didn’t do quite so well with them. So I called Viktor for some advice before Nationals and Worlds. He saw my programs at the qualifying events and the Grand Prix Final,” Otabek shrugged. “He had some good suggestions for improving them.”

“He’s not bad at the choreography,” Yurio grudgingly admitted.

Otabek smiled. “That’s high praise from you.” He grew serious again. “Who will coach you after Worlds, Yuri?”

“What?”

“Is Yakov coming back?” Otabek asked.

“Doesn’t sound like it. His doctors said it’s too stressful and Lilia won’t even let him come watch a practice.” It was Yurio’s turn to shrug. “So I guess I am stuck with Viktor.”

“So you will go back to Japan then?” Otabek asked.

“Why would I go to Japan if Viktor is here?” Yurio asked. “Viktor is the Russian team coach and we are based in St. Petersburg.”

“Didn’t you hear what I told you? He and Katsuki want to go back to Japan.”

“That was before Yakov’s heart attack,” Yurio retorted.

“How do you not know this? Don’t you see them every day?” Otabek looked puzzled.

“I try not to listen to them—they’re so annoying,” Yurio said, but his mind was thinking back to his late night practice with Viktor. He had grumbled at Viktor, asking when he and the other Yuri were going to get married—he hoped married life would settle them down and they would stop pawing each other all the time. Viktor had just laughed; now that Yurio thought about it he hadn’t really heard Viktor laugh in awhile.

It had been good, practicing alone with Viktor tonight. It had reminded him of the weeks in Hasetsu, at the Ice Castle, when he had been learning the program for Agape. It was far more peaceful there than at their rink in St. Petersburg and Viktor had been focused—just like he had been in Japan. He had even told Viktor that, regretting it as soon as he said it because Viktor looked so sappy at his words.

Who would coach him if Viktor left for Japan at the end of the season? Georgi? Ugh. That made him want to vomit.

“What are you thinking about, Yuratchka?” Otabek asked softly. “Your mind is somewhere else.”

“If Viktor doesn’t stay on I don’t know who would coach the team,” Yurio said slowly, running the options through his head. “I guess . . . “ he paused, unable to believe he was actually admitting this out loud. “I guess I would go to Japan if I could keep Viktor as my coach.”

Otabek grinned, an unusual brightness in his eyes at Yurio’s words. “Good. I hoped you would say that.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Yurio growled, suspicious now.

If anything Otabek’s smile grew wider. “Because I spoke to Viktor about coaching me next season.”

“Beka!! Really?” Yurio’s heart was racing, his hands gripping the arms of his chair tightly. “You would go to Japan?”

“I would. I haven’t really talked to him about it since the Grand Prix, not directly. Once this Yakov situation happened I didn’t want to bother him,” Otabek leaned back in his chair. “I like his choreography and I think I could learn a lot from him.”

Yurio was speechless. He knew Viktor was a good coach, despite continually complaining about him. He did not have a lot of experience but both he and Katsuki had benefitted from their time with Viktor, especially Katsuki—he was like a different skater once Viktor became his coach. 

Yurio had to admit Viktor was keeping the team focused in Yakov’s absence. But it was surprising to hear this from Otabek. Otabek, who loved being back in Almaty. Otabek, who had trained in Russia, the US and Canada, but who had longed to be back in his native Kazakhstan. Otabek was seriously considering moving to Japan, just so Viktor could coach him? 

“So we might be rink mates, is that what you are telling me?” Yurio asked Otabek, just to clarify.

“I’d like to hope so,” Otabek said, moving closer to his monitor now.

“I’d like that,” Yurio said softly, leaning closer himself.

“I would too, Yuratchka,” Otabek paused and Yurio saw he was blushing. “I’ve missed you.”

Yurio’s heart beat even faster and he could feel his cheeks getting warm. How many times had he wanted to say that to Otabek these last few months? Their few days at the Grand Prix had been too busy to really get to spend time together. “I’ve missed you too,” he admitted, his face blushing ferociously.

Otabek just smiled at him and put his hand on his monitor screen. Yurio placed his own hand on his monitor, covering Otabek’s, and met his gaze.

“Don’t nag at Viktor too much, Yura. This is tough for him,” Otabek said.

“Yeah, ok, Beka, I’ll do my best.”

“Talk to you later this week?” Otabek asked.

“Yeah.”

“I’ll miss seeing you on your birthday,” Otabek said, his hand still on the monitor, mirroring Yurio’s. “But it won’t be long before I see you at Worlds.”

“Not soon enough, but it will have to do.” Yurio’s hand lingered on the monitor as well, keeping the illusion of touching Otabek’s just a little longer.


	3. Chapter 3

 

 

Chapter 3

 

Yurio lay on his bed looking at the ceiling. He had ended the Skype with Otabek, sent him a goodnight snapchat photo of his cat and was now trying to sort out his feelings about their conversation.

It made complete sense when he thought about what Otabek had told him. If Yakov wasn’t coming back (of course he wasn’t—Lilia would never let him) then Yurio would need to find a new coach.

If Viktor was going to return to Hasetsu then Yurio would just have to follow him _again_. He wasn’t going to take no for an answer. VIktor was going to keep coaching him, no matter what the katsudon decided to do at the end of this season.

With a stab of annoyance, he realized that the katsudon would probably be completely in favor of the idea. And if the katsudon wanted Yurio as his rinkmate, he knew Viktor would agree. It had become obvious to everyone that Viktor could not say no to him.

He liked Hasetsu even though he endeavored never to let Katsuki know that. He liked Yuuko, he liked the rink, he liked Mrs. Katsuki’s food.

But he had to admit that the thing he liked most was the intensity. It was different than the rink at St. Petersburg. There were too many skaters on the Russian team coached by Yakov. It was distracting and it was also cutthroat to get more coaching time. He wouldn’t mind leaving that behind. 

Besotted as Viktor was with Katsuki, he had still given Yurio his undivided attention when they were all in Japan. That was obviously something he was struggling with now—having taken on so many skaters, Viktor was finding he could not coach them the way he wanted to—intense, focused, one-on-one sessions.

It seemed Otabek was right. Viktor was likely feeling the stress of having to coach in a way that was unnatural for him. Yurio grimaced. He would have to be more patient with the old man, as he had promised Otabek.

Otabek. His heartbeat had raced at the thought of Otabek being coached by Viktor. Of being rinkmates, of seeing him every day not just three to four times a year.

But it could be awkward, he thought, as a cold shiver went through him. Just as his body had changed over the last year, so had his feelings for his friend.

He cared for him as a friend, of course. He had never really had a friend before Otabek.

Viktor was more of a mentor, even if he was mostly just a pain in the ass. Kastuki wasn’t quite a friend, just as he wasn’t quite a rival anymore. Yurio wasn’t sure what exactly Katsuki was, other than a pain in the ass, just like his stupid, besotted boyfriend. He had grown to respect him as a skater and he knew Katsuki was a good person. It was hard to dislike him honestly. Damn it. He probably _was_ the closest thing to a friend Yurio had in St. Petersburg and that was infuriating to realize.

Mila was annoying. Really annoying. Especially when she would ask about Otabek all the time and get that stupid smile on her face.

And so, his thoughts were back to Otabek. His friend. Even though lately he was finding himself noticing things about Otabek that he hadn’t before.

How his eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled. How his ears were the first part of him to blush. How his . . .

What the hell? Yurio sat up abruptly in bed and clutched his pillow grumpily, scaring the cat.

He had noticed that and more at the Grand Prix Final this year. His hands naturally lingered around Otabek’s waist, even when the motorcycle was stopped. He loved leaning against Otabek’s shoulder when they were watching the other skaters compete, their knees just touching.

He thought he had sensed a change in Otabek too. He had always been very forthright with the eye contact but this time it had been more intense. The gentle touches on Yurio’s shoulders, his back, even his hair, had lingered for longer than they ever had before.

The Skype virtual hand holding was new, since the Grand Prix. It made Yurio’s breath catch every time Otabek did it.  He squeezed the pillow tighter, resting his chin on it, his face wrinkled in thought.

It wasn’t enough anymore, just being Otabek’s friend. Yurio had to admit that to himself. He was not going to be all disgusting and sappy about it like Viktor. That wasn’t his style. But he longed to feel the warmth of Otabek’s hand in his. He would be hard pressed to keep from doing that when he saw him in Helsinki.

He had begun to suspect Otabek felt the same. Ugh! He needed to go to sleep, not think about how Otabek’s undercut would feel under his fingertips or how his strong hands would feel on Yuri’s waist.

Yurio threw the pillow on the floor and grabbed his phone. He would text Viktor that he needed more one-on-one training sessions. It wasn’t a lie. He’d grown so much this year that it had affected his jumps. He knew Viktor had gone through the same metamorphosis—from slight, ethereal junior skater to the tall, muscular powerhouse he remained today. 

But somehow Viktor had retained his grace, his fluidity. That was what was now lacking in his own performances, despite Lilia’s sessions with him.  Maybe the extra training would tire him out enough to let him sleep. Maybe.

 


	4. Chapter 4

Viktor had dropped Yuuri off at the airport—he was on his way to Nationals in Japan. Russia’s Nationals were in two days and then he would join Yuuri; arriving a day before the start of the competition, time enough to hopefully settle Yuuri’s nerves.

He was in no mood to go back to his apartment. Makkachin was there but it would be so empty without his Yuuri. Viktor checked his watch.

It was early enough that he could still visit Yakov. He needed to have his talk with Yakov—sooner rather than later. He couldn’t continue like this. Oh, he knew he would have to, at least until Worlds were over, but after that . . . 

Yuuri was having thoughts about retirement again. Viktor did not think it was time—not as his coach and not as his fiancé either. Yuuri was skating in top form, his programs poetry on the ice. He had a good chance for a medal at Worlds. With Viktor retired and Yurio still awkwardly finding his way around his new body, Yuuri’s main competition would be JJ and Otabek. The others had improved, especially Phichit, but they were still no match for those top three.

Chris had announced his impending retirement after the Grand Prix Final. His recurrent hamstring issues had finally forced this decision on him. He knew his chances for a medal at Worlds were slim at best, but unlike Viktor he was going to give it one last try and would finish out his season there, if his leg held out.

Viktor was close to Yakov’s now, his eyes scanning the street for a good parking spot. He hoped Yurio wouldn’t be there. It would be a far easier conversation without Yurio’s rages added in.

Not that it would be easy under any circumstances, Viktor admitted to himself, far from it.

He knew Yakov was grateful for his assistance. Finding a last-minute head coach would have been a grueling endeavor under any circumstances. That Viktor was willing, available and familiar with the skaters had eased much of that stress from his former coach. 

But Viktor couldn’t keep doing this. Despite some initial missteps with Yuuri, due to his inexperience, Viktor had found coaching to be exhilarating and fulfilling. At least when he was coaching Yuuri. And Yurio, brief as that time had been.

But what he was doing now—with a dozen skaters of varying skill—was exhausting and frustrating. He could not coach like Yakov; overseeing an entire stable of elite athletes. He was more suited to coaching a few focused skaters—where he could choreograph, coach, encourage and educate in a close, personal, one-on-one environment. It was too scattered, what he was doing now.

It would suffice for now, he knew. The skaters he had inherited were well into their season, their music selected, their programs complete. His role was to motivate and smooth their rough edges. 

All that would be different after Worlds. After Worlds, he would need to oversee not only their skill sets but the creation of multiple programs—music, choreography, costumes. It was too much. All he wanted was what he and Yuuri had planned from the day he decided to retire; to move to Hasetsu, set up a coaching venue for Viktor at the Ice Castle and get on with their lives.

He had numerous requests already to choreograph for skaters around the world. He could pick and choose who he wanted to work with. He could keep coaching Yuuri, if he chose to remain in competition. Viktor had a strong suspicion Yurio would choose to continue to have him as his coach—despite Yurio’s vociferous complaints about him, Viktor knew he was still preferable to an unknown or to Georgi.

He also thought Yurio would be more likely to come to Japan if he knew Otabek was considering having Viktor coach him as well. It brought a smile to Viktor’s face as he finally parked the car. Otabek was a bit of an enigma to him still but there was no denying the raw power and skill he exhibited as a skater. He would be a challenge—his style so different from Viktor’s own—but it would be a learning experience for them both. 

And Yurio was drawn to the Kazakh skater; anyone who paid attention could see that. There was a bond between them that Viktor suspected was deepening into more than friendship. It would be fascinating to see how that played out.

He wrapped his scarf more snugly around his neck and pulled his gloves on as he walked to Yakov’s building in the frigid St. Petersburg night. If he spoke to Yakov tonight there would be more than enough time to select a replacement coach to start right after Worlds.

Lilia’s voice came over the intercom as she buzzed him into the building. 

He was relieved to find Yakov and Lilia alone—no Yurio in sight. 

“Vitya, good to see you,” Lilia said, as she ushered him in. “Yakov’s been waiting for a progress update before Nationals. He’ll be glad to see you,” she said in a conversational tone of voice, before coming closer to him and whispering “Don’t you dare upset him, Viktor. He’s better and I want him to stay that way.”

Viktor’s stomach clenched at her words but he gave Lilia his best smile. “Da, Lilia. I just need some advice from him.”

Yakov was seated on the living room sofa, looking better than he had in a while, Viktor thought. He had lost some weight; his color was brighter than it had been for months and he had a sparkle in his eye as he caught sight of Viktor.

“Vitya! My skaters haven’t wiped that smile off your face yet? I’m surprised.”

“Yakov!” Viktor sat next to him and gave his former coach a hug. “They would have made my hair go gray if it hadn’t already done that years ago,” Viktor joked.

“Why do you think I don’t have any hair left?” Yakov responded, laughing as he saw Viktor’s horrified expression and involuntary hand movement to his own hair. Viktor frowned and flopped back against the sofa. “Are they wearing you down, my Vitya?” Yakov asked, his voice gentler now.

“No, not yet, Yakov, but I am tired,” Viktor admitted, turning his head to look at the older man. “It was much easier coaching just Yuuri.”

“Katsuki’s a gem, compared to this lot,” Yakov stated. “An anxious mess of a gem but he listens and he works hard.”

Viktor smiled at the approval in Yakov’s voice. So different from when Viktor had first told him about Yuuri joining them in St. Petersburg. But Yuuri had quickly become one of Yakov and Lilia’s favorites.

“So tell me Viktor, how is it going? Is Georgi any help at all?”

“Georgi is a huge help with the women’s team, Yakov. He knows their issues so much better than I do,” Viktor admitted.

“Bah! He should!” Yakov exclaimed. “He’s dated enough of them.”

Viktor laughed. Yakov wasn’t wrong. Georgi had and he knew their concerns far better because of it, Viktor had to admit.

“Nationals in a few days, eh? They ready?” Yakov asked.

“They are as ready as they can be,” Viktor said, before his face clouded over. “I dropped Yuuri off at the airport before I came here. I go to Japan the day after our Nationals, to coach Yuuri through his.”

“I haven’t been fair to Katsuki, with you taking over the whole team, Vitya,” Yakov said, his eyes catching Viktor’s change of expression. “I know it has given you less time with him.”

“It has,” Viktor agreed. “But skating with the others has been a good experience for him too. He’s learned from them and they’ve learned from him. It’s good for him to see he’s an example for them.”

Yakov looked at Viktor fondly. He had been furious when Viktor had left for Japan two years ago, but it had been actually been good for him. He had grown in so many ways and Katsuki had been just what he needed. He had never seen Viktor so truly happy and fulfilled. He deserved that kind of joy in his life.

He looked tired now, Yakov noted. And uncharacteristically nervous too, he thought, watching Viktor drum his fingers on the arm of the sofa.

“What is it, Vitya?” Yakov asked softly. “Something is on your mind.”

Viktor exhaled and then turned to him, his face serious. “Yakov, I will gladly coach through Worlds but after that . . .” he frowned, narrowed his eyes momentarily, then met Yakov’s gaze again. “After Worlds I would like to resign as the Russian Team coach.”

Yakov was not as surprised as Viktor might have expected. “I did not expect you to take this on permanently, Vitya,” he said, patting Viktor’s knee sympathetically. “You did it for me and I am grateful.” He looked at Viktor and a rare smile came over his face. “You need to coach your Yuuri and move on with your life.” He raised one eyebrow. “And finally marry the boy! He’s won enough gold medals for you, hasn’t he?”

And there it was—Viktor’s real smile. Yakov knew it and was gratified to see it again. “I knew you would understand, Yakov,” Viktor said, putting his hand on the older man’s. “We want to go back to Japan—I can coach Yuuri there, like I did before.” He rested his head on the back of the sofa, closing his eyes with a sigh. “And finally get married.”

“I doubt you will only be coaching Katsuki. Others will look to you—for choreography, for coaching—you are experienced coaching champions now, Vitya.”

Viktor turned his head to look at Yakov. “Thank you. I know you thought I was an idiot when I left for Japan.”

‘You were an idiot,” Yakov agreed. “Just not as big an idiot as I was for doubting you.” Yakov nodded at him. “Don’t announce your resignation until after Worlds. I will talk to the Sports Federation and the Olympic Committee and we will find a replacement.” He frowned and darted a glance towards the kitchen, where Lilia was humming as she cleaned up. “Even if the doctors said I could coach again, Lilia wouldn’t let me,” he confided.

“You finally learned not to cross her, old man?” Viktor teased.

“I can hear you, Vitya.” Lilia’s voice came from the kitchen.

“As if I had any choice,” Yakov said.

“I can hear you too, old man,” Lilia said, poking her head out of the kitchen to glare at him and then disappearing again.

“See?” Yakov said, shaking his head. He looked at Viktor again. “Don’t worry. Get through Worlds and we will find a solution. Get on with your life.”

Viktor pulled Yakov into another hug, resting his head on his former coach’s shoulder as the older man gently stroked his hair. “Thank you,” he whispered, blinking back the tears that had gathered in his eyes. This had gone far better than he had expected but he still felt emotional about it.

“You want to stay for dinner, Viktor?” Lilia had come to stand near them.

Viktor pulled back from Yakov and ran a hand through his hair. “No, thank you, Lilia. I need to get home to walk Makkachin now that Yuuri is on his way to Japan.” He stood up and smiled at her. “Time for me to go.”

“Let me send some food home with you then,” she said, looking him over critically. “You look too thin, Vitya.” She marched back into the kitchen, quickly returning with a bag for him.

The front door slammed and Yurio stalked into the room. “Huh?” he growled, catching sight of Viktor. “I can’t get away from you anywhere, you old geezer. You’re so annoying.”

“I was just leaving, Yurio,” Viktor said pleasantly.

“Good,” Yurio responded, looking at his watch. “Maybe I can get twelve hours without having to see your face then.”

“Yuri!” Lilia barked. “Do not speak to your coach like that!” She stepped closer to him and glared.

“You’re all so annoying,” Yurio complained, but he followed Viktor to the door of the apartment and to Viktor’s surprise he stepped out into the hallway with him. “Did you tell the old man you’re quitting?” he asked.

“What?” Viktor exclaimed.

“You heard me. Did you tell him you’re quitting after Worlds or not?” Yurio glared at Viktor, his eyes on a level with his own, Viktor noticed. Yurio had grown so much this year.

“I already retired from skating, Yurio.”

“Stupid asshole! You know I mean coaching. How can one person be so annoying? Are you quitting as Team Russia coach or not?” Yurio growled.

Viktor stared at him. He didn’t want the skaters to know yet. He had just promised Yakov not to announce anything until after Worlds.

“Listen. I need to know,” Yurio snarled. “I won’t tell anybody if you are, dumbass. Just tell me.”

Viktor blinked and then responded. “You can’t tell anyone, Yurio. I don’t want anyone to be upset before Nationals.”

“Who would be upset to be getting rid of you, loser?” Yurio said, but his voice was softer and he didn’t meet Viktor’s eyes.

Viktor looked at him and sighed. He knew why Yurio was asking and why there was more bluster in his conversation.

“Yes, Yurio,” Viktor admitted. “I told Yakov I’m done after Worlds.”

“Are you going to Japan to coach the piggy?”

“I’m going to Japan,” Viktor said distinctly. “To coach Yuuri, if he still wants to skate competitively and to get married.”

“Huh? Do you have to drag your lame love life into every conversation?” Yurio complained. “Fine. Then I’m coming with you. You’re old and lame and annoying as hell but I’m not going to stick around here and deal with Georgi as my coach.”

“Yurio!” Viktor enthusiastically hugged the younger man, who squawked and pushed him away. “You want me to be your coach!”

“Ugh. Stop it. I told you. I don’t want to deal with Georgi. You’re annoying but you’re not as big a loser as he is.” Yurio stepped away from Viktor.

“I’ll be glad to have you and I’m sure Yuuri will be so pleased,” Viktor said. He raised an eyebrow and looked at Yurio. “And I’m sure it will make Otabek happy also.” He kept his eyes on Yurio and was pleased to note the flush creeping up his face at his words.

“Why should it make Otabek happy? What’s Otabek got to do with me going to Japan?” Yurio mumbled, not daring to meet Viktor’s face and inadvertently reveal that he was just looking for confirmation about Otabek.

Viktor beamed at him, the exhaustion leaving his face completely as he smiled. “Because he is coming to Japan so that I can coach him! You’ll be rink mates! You won’t have to go months without seeing each other.” 

There is was. For a brief moment Yurio’s face had relaxed and he had almost smiled. How did Otabek do it, Viktor wondered. How had he gotten past Yurio’s thick shell? “I’m so glad you will come back to Japan with us,” he said, impulsively reaching out to hug Yurio again. Instead of resistance this time, Yurio actually hugged him back, letting his head rest on Viktor’s shoulder for a brief moment, as his shoulders relaxed.

“I need you to help me, Viktor,” Yurio whispered, keeping his face buried in Viktor’s shoulder.

“I know, Yurio. It will come back. The grace and ease will come back,” Viktor reassured him, patting the younger man on the back gently. He pulled back to look at Yurio, his hands on his shoulders. “We’ll keep your ballet going with Minako. It will help.”

“Crazy, drunk ballerina,” Yurio muttered. “She’s worse than Lilia,” but he gave Viktor a small smile despite himself.

“Just don’t tell anyone yet, Yurio. I don’t want them to know.” Viktor tilted his head and tapped his finger on his lip as he thought. “Of course, you can talk to Otabek. I’ve already spoken to him. I just need to let him know when to come to Hasetsu.”

Yurio nodded, not quite trusting himself to respond about Otabek. He could feel Viktor watching him and knew it was time to end this conversation. Viktor could be an idiot but he was a very perceptive idiot.

“All right, I won’t tell anyone. Go home and get out of here.” Yurio shrugged and walked back to the apartment and shut the door.

Viktor sat on his sofa, Makkachin at his feet, as he ate Lilia’s Solyanka soup in front of the television. All in all, the evening had gone far better than he had expected.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just some quiet moments between Yuuri and Viktor

 

He almost fell asleep in the limo from the airport. It was close to midnight Osaka time. Viktor had been traveling for almost 24 hours. He had left directly after the finals at Nationals, not waiting until the next day for the Gala. Georgi could handle the Gala on his own—Viktor needed to get to Yuuri before the first day of the Japanese Nationals. And now he was finally almost there.

The women skated their short program tomorrow so Yuuri would have a full practice day with Viktor rink side, as the men’s competition started the day after the women’s. He just needed to get some sleep. Viktor had not slept on the plane much.

He reached the hotel, received his key and made his way to the 17th floor, to the room Yuuri had reserved for them. He pulled his luggage with him, not wanting to wait for the bellman to bring it up.  He leaned against the wall, exhausted, as he slid the keycard into the slot.

He entered the room as silently as he could. A sliver of light lit the room from the nightlight in the bathroom. He could see the outline of Yuuri, asleep on the bed.

Viktor smiled. Yuuri had reserved a king room. No more pushing the doubles together like they had in Barcelona. They’d come a long way since then.

He pushed the suitcase up by the wall and silently removed his coat and shoes. His clothing followed, leaving him in just his underwear. He was too tired to search his suitcase and he preferred to sleep with next to nothing on anyway. Yuuri would keep him warm.  
  
Viktor slid into the bed, moving closer to Yuuri and gently spooning behind the younger man. Yuuri shifted slightly, still sleeping, but his hand came to rest on Viktor’s as it circled his waist. Viktor took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of Yuuri’s hair and pressed a soft kiss to the top of his head. It wasn’t long before he was asleep as well.

 

The light woke him, shining through a slit in the curtains. Yuuri’s head was nestled under Viktor’s chin, having shifted in the night to face him, their legs tangled together. Viktor loved waking up like this. He nuzzled Yuuri’s hair, a smile appearing on his face as Yuuri groaned and burrowed further into Viktor’s neck. Mornings were not Yuuri’s favorite time of day.

“Good morning, my sleeping beauty,” Viktor whispered.

“Vitya, it’s too early,” Yuuri mumbled.

It wasn’t but Viktor could rarely argue with Yuuri when he said his name like that. He settled his cheek on Yuuri’s head and glanced at his wristwatch. They had time. The practice rink would be open for hours yet. If he had learned anything these past two years with Yuuri it was to let him set the pace at competition times.

Yuuri had a strong sense of dedication. He wouldn’t consider skipping a practice but it was best to let his motivation drive him there, especially at competition times. Viktor let Yuuri lead and met him halfway. It worked for them and it worked for Yuuri’s anxiety issues as well.

“I suppose I should get up,” Yuuri murmured, tickling Viktor’s neck with his breath. There is was—the self-motivation Viktor knew would surface on its own.

“There’s time, my love,” Viktor said softly.

“Mmm. How was your flight? You got in pretty late.”

“It was horrid. I don’t know why I didn’t book first class. Oh, I know why—you booked the tickets this time, my Yuuri,” Viktor complained.

“You were too busy with coaching. You’ve survived economy flights before and you survived this one,” Yuuri turned his head up to look at Viktor with a small smirk.

“Don’t tell me you booked us economy back to St. Petersburg too?”

“It was a round trip fare for your flight, Viktor and mine too.”

Viktor groaned. “This is the last time I let you make the reservations. I suppose you booked economy for Worlds too?”

“Viktor! It’s in Helsinki—it’s not even a two-hour flight. I was not going to book First Class for that!” Yuuri was awake now, resting on his elbow and looking down at Viktor, with an exasperated expression on his face.

Viktor snuggled up to him, burying his face in Yuuri’s neck, his arms around him. “I don’t mind too much. You make a good pillow.”

Viktor heard Yuuri’s laugh and felt the light kiss on his forehead. It had only been a week but it had seemed like forever. He was looking forward to this season being over, so they could be together and not need to separate for competitions anymore.

“I spoke to Yakov,” Viktor murmured.

“You told me. It sounds like he took it better than you expected.”  
  
Viktor nodded. “We just need to get through Worlds in March. Then I’m done and we can move back to Japan.”

Yuuri made a comforting sound. “I’m looking forward to that.” He jerked back suddenly and looked down at Viktor, a crease on his forehead. “Not that I haven’t loved living in St. Petersburg with you and training with the team . . .”

Viktor interrupted him, a hand touching Yuuri’s face. “I know, my love. I know. But it’s time for us to find our own place. Make our own home.”

“I loved being part of your home, Viktor,” Yuuri said, a very serious expression on his face.

“I loved it too, my Yuuri. But I want to find a place that we can make _ours_ , not yours or mine.”

Yuuri leaned down and kissed Viktor’s lips, slow and soft, his hand reaching up to tangle in Viktor’s hair. It still made Viktor shiver, when Yuuri took the lead in their physical relationship.

Yuuri pulled back reluctantly, his brown eyes meeting Viktor’s. “I suppose I should get ready to practice.”

“As your coach I think that’s the best idea. As your fiancé . . .” Viktor smiled up at Yuuri. “I also think it’s time for us to head to the rink. You’ve got a gold medal to win.”

Yuuri flopped back onto the bed and groaned.

“Yuuuri!” Viktor drawled, sitting up to lean over his boyfriend. “Come on, after the Grand Prix this is no more than an exercise for you and a chance to run through your programs!”

Yuuri gave Viktor a dark look. “Have you been watching the videos of Minami skating this year? He’s on fire.”

“Tcha.” Viktor made that uniquely Russian sound of disdain that Yuuri had become familiar with initially from Yurio.

“Don’t count him out. He’s looking for a chance to top that podium.”

“It won’t be this year.” Viktor countered. He got out of bed and stared down at Yuuri. “Well, what are you waiting for? Let’s go!”

“Ugh. Now you’re being a model coach again.” Yuuri buried his head in the pillow but Viktor could see the grin on his face.

“Fine. I get to shower first then.”

“What!”

Viktor was already in the bathroom before Yuuri made his way out of the tangled sheets and blankets.


	6. Chapter 6

 

As Viktor had predicted, Yuuri won the Nationals easily. Minami had improved but was still a far distant second. 

 

Yuuri and Viktor were now out to dinner with Mari and Minako, who had made the trip to Osaka to cheer for Yuuri.

 

“You look thin, Vicchan,” Mari said, eyeing Viktor critically. “Mama isn’t going to like that.” She poked Yuuri. “Why aren’t you feeding him? I didn’t email all those recipes of Mama’s for nothing, did I?” She frowned at her brother.

 

Viktor broke in before Yuuri could speak, draping himself around Yuuri and resting his head on his fiancé’s shoulder. “My Yuuri has been taking very good care of me, Mari. I like it when he makes Mama Katsuki’s recipes!”

 

Minako poked Viktor in the ribs and he jumped. “Well, it doesn’t look like he’s been doing it enough. She’s right, Viktor. You are too skinny.” She gave them both a disapproving look.

 

“I do cook for him, Mari,” Yuuri defended himself. Then he sighed and gave Viktor a brief sidelong glance before adding “But he gets home so late and he’s so worn out—he can barely stay awake long enough to eat most nights.”

 

The two women now directed their stern glares at Viktor, who attempted to look defiant but soon just wilted onto Yuuri’s shoulder. “Yuuuuri,” he complained. “Why did we agree to go out to dinner with these two?”

 

“Because I’m going to be your sister-in-law, if you ever get to marrying this brother of mine, and you need to stay on my good side,” Mari stated.

 

“You owe me, Viktor, and you know it,” Minako added, not elaborating further.

 

Viktor raised his glass of sake in a toast to them both and wisely remained silent.

 

“Seriously though, Vicchan—you look terrible.” Mari swatted him as Viktor spluttered incoherently at her words.

 

He finally choked out a “Mari! You wound me!” and took comfort in Yuuri gently squeezing his thigh.

 

“It was tough enough competing and coaching me,” Yuuri confided. “But coaching me and the whole Russian team is far more difficult.”

 

Viktor leaned back in the booth, subject now to both Minako and Mari’s penetrating gazes again, as they sat across the table from him. “It’s been a little challenging,” he admitted.

 

“Challenging?” Yuuri seemed to be letting the floodgates open on his frustration tonight. He’d had a glass or two of sake Viktor realized. “He’s at the rink at six in the morning most days. He doesn’t get home until eight at night on a good day, ten or later on the bad ones. And before Nationals there were a lot of bad days.” He squeezed Viktor’s thigh again in an attempt to hush his protests. “And his skaters are so frustrating! Yurio isn’t even the worst one anymore—he at least listens to Viktor some of the time.”

 

Viktor just stared at Yuuri. Where was this tirade coming from? Yuuri had always been so comforting, murmuring encouraging words, massaging his tight shoulders, cuddling with him when he got home. Had he really been keeping all this pent-up frustration under wraps?

 

It seemed he had because Yuuri wasn’t done. “And Georgi tries to help but he’s mostly useless. The other skaters don’t respect him enough. And don’t even get me started on Lilia!” Yuuri shook his head. “Minako, she makes you look like a cupcake!”

 

“I feel like I should be offended . . .” Minako replied.

 

“Enough, Yuuri,” Viktor said, fixing Yuuri with a serious look. “I know it has been stressful and I’m sorry. I hadn’t realized quite how disruptive it was for you.” He sighed. “I’ve been trying to be there for you as much as I can but I see I haven’t been doing a very good job at all.”

 

Yuuri’s face flushed and a startled, guilty look came over him. “Oh, Vitya!” His voice was trembling. “I never meant to make _you_ feel bad.” His hands flailed around before finally latching onto Viktor’s. “I just meant everyone was piling on you and now I did it too.” He looked down. “I’m so sorry.” He bowed his head.

 

“Seems some things never change,” Mari said quietly to Minako. “Yuuri’s back to apologizing again.”

 

Viktor pulled Yuuri towards him until their foreheads touched. “Just a few more months, moya ljubov.” His blue eyes filled Yuuri’s vision. “European Championships. Four Continents. Worlds. Then I’m done and I am all your again.” He squeezed Yuuri’s hand. “You understand, my Yuuri?”

 

Yuuri nodded, flushing as he realized Minako and Mari were watching them from across the table still.

 

“Does that mean you’re going to quit coaching the Russian team?” Minako asked.

 

“I told Yakov I was done after Worlds. He’s looking for a new coach.” Viktor tilted his head and smiled.

 

“And what will you do then?” Mari asked, looking at Yuuri searchingly.

 

Viktor looked at Yuuri, who gave him a quick nod. “I’ll keep coaching my Yuuri, as long as he wants to keep skating.” He leaned into Yuuri as he continued to speak. “I have a few skaters who want me to choreograph programs for them and one or two who may want me as their coach.”

 

Minako narrowed her eyes. “You’ll do that in St. Petersburg then?”

 

Viktor’s face broke into a dazzling smile. “I’d like to do it in Hasetsu,” he admitted, glancing at Yuuri again, his eyes shining.

 

“Hasetsu?” Mari questioned.

 

Viktor answered her. “Yes. I’ve talked to the Nishigori’s about using the Ice Castle as our training facility. I was planning to ask you if you would let our students attend your classes and use your studio, Minako.”

 

“So you would both be moving back to Hasetsu?” Mari asked.

 

“Yes,” Yuuri answered this time. “It’s what we were planning to do, once Viktor retired. It just happened that he needed to take the coaching position for the Russian team instead.”

 

“You know I would be happy to be a part of this, Viktor,” Minako said. “There’s been an upswing in interest in ballet and skating, with Yuuri’s success, but I’m sure it will skyrocket with the two of you there.”

 

Mari still had a frown as she studied Viktor and her brother. “Where are you going to live? There isn’t room at the onsen for you and your students. It was hard enough with just Yurio there for a few weeks.”

 

“We’d get our own place, Mari,” Yuuri said softly.

 

“Not that we don’t love the onsen!” Viktor interjected. He looked at Yuuri affectionately before continuing. “But I think once we get married we should really have our own place.”

 

“Married. You’re finally going to get married?” Mari’s voice was still wary, her eyes on Yuuri.

 

She’d grown skeptical it seemed, Viktor realized. Yuuri had won gold but no wedding had been forthcoming. Perhaps she doubted his sincerity. He’d correct that impression.

 

“I will now have the time to devote to my Yuuri,” Viktor said. “We’re both more than ready to move on to this next stage of our lives.” He leaned over and kissed Yuuri’s temple.   
  
“But you’ll have other students,” Mari countered.

 

“I’m not going to skate forever, Mari,” Yuuri said, giving Viktor a look as he saw his fiancé’s face fall. “Despite Viktor’s insistence to the contrary, there will come a time for me to retire as well.” It was Yuuri’s turn to beam at the women. “And then we can coach together.” He leaned over and kissed Viktor.

 

Minako looked from one to the other. “You both seem very at ease with this plan,” she said, eyeing Yuuri in particular. There was no trace of anxiety in his face, just a quiet joy. Good, she thought. It’s about time.

 

“So, we’ll be spared all of Viktor’s boxes this time?” Mari asked.

 

“Well, no, not actually,” Yuuri said.

 

“Of course not!” Viktor interrupted. “We don’t have a place yet. We’ll have to settle at the onsen until we find the perfect home for us.”

 

Mari groaned and put her head on the table.

 

“May I ask who your potential students will be?” Minako questioned. “Purely from a professional standpoint, since they will be using my ballet studio.”

 

“Nothing confirmed,” Viktor said, his voice dropping to a poor stage whisper. Viktor was hopeless at being quiet. “But very likely Otabek and our little Yurio.”

 

“Yurio?” Mari exclaimed. “The kitten is coming back?”

 

“He’d prefer to be known as the Ice Tiger, Mari,” Yuuri said drily.

 

“Yes, well he can ‘prefer’ whatever he wants, but he’ll always be the kitten to me,” Mari said dismissively.

 

“So the Hero of Kazakhstan and the Ice Tiger of Russia,” Minako said thoughtfully, a speculative look coming over her. “I’ve a hard time seeing the Hero taking ballet classes.”

 

“He’ll do whatever I ask him to do,” Viktor said confidently.

 

“If Yurio is taking ballet classes I’m sure Otabek will be too,” Yuuri added, a mischievous look on his face.

 

“What are you saying, Yuuri?” Minako asked, her eyes narrowing.

 

“Nothing at all. Otabek is Yurio’s best friend. After so many years only seeing each other two to three times a year I just expect they will take every opportunity to spend time together,” Yuuri said, the smile still on his face.

 

“Hmm.” Mari said. “And so when do you anticipate this move?”

 

“Once the season is over. May at the latest.” Viktor said. His eyes got a dreamy, far-away look. “I’d love a spring wedding, with the cherry blossoms in bloom.” He gave a sigh and then grinned at the women. “But a summer beach wedding will do just as well!”

 

“Viktor, you are ridiculous,” Yuuri said, gazing fondly at his fiancé.

 

“It could be raining or snowing or in a dingy office,” Viktor said. “It wouldn’t matter to me. As long as I get to marry my Yuuri.”

 

“Ugh. No wonder Yurio wants to gag when he’s around you two. You’re still like this after all this time.” Mari’s smile contradicted her words.

 

Viktor leaned over and gave Yuuri another kiss. “My intention is to always be like this.”


	7. Chapter 7

Yurio propped his laptop on his knees and eyed Otabek on the screen. “What’s up, Beka?”

“Long day.”

“You ok?” Yurio narrowed his eyes at his friend. He did look tired but there was something more. Otabek wasn’t meeting his eyes like he usually did. 

“Beka?”

“It’s nothing, Yura.” Otabek said, his eyes briefly darting up to meet Yurio’s own.

Yurio frowned and bit his lip. Something was definitely off but he knew he wasn’t going to get anywhere by prodding. Otabek was so similar to him in this way—he would let him know when he was ready.

So Yurio launched into a tirade about Georgi and how annoying he was being about his new girlfriend, Nadia. He’d finally decided to date someone who wasn’t a skater but Yurio didn’t have high hopes for this relationship either. Georgi was too needy. He went on for a few minutes, Otabek laughing and nodding at all the right moments. He was looking a little bit more like himself now.

“You ready for the Championsips, Yura? Has Viktor worn you out practicing yet?”

“Tcha,” Yurio scoffed. “The old geezer can barely keep up with me. He’s given the Katsudon a bit of a break—since he’s got almost a month before Four Continents, Viktor is focused on kicking our asses for a change.”

“I don’t think all he does is kick Yuuri’s ass,” Otabek said, with a smirk.

“Shut the fuck up, Beka! Why would you even say that?” Yurio glared into the screen. “It’s not funny! I don’t want to think about that.”

Otabek laughed. “You left yourself wide open for that one, Yura. I couldn’t help it.”

“Yeah, well you pull that shit again I’m hanging up on you. It’s bad enough I have to deal with them all day, without getting shit about them from you too.”

“When do you leave for Ostrava?” Otabek asked, smoothly changing the subject. The European Championships were in the Czech Republic and soon approaching.

“Next week. Viktor wants us there at least three days before the start of the competition,” Yurio grimaced. “I swear if he spends those days going sightseeing with Katsuki ‘because Yuuuuuri’s never been to the Czech Republic before’ I will cut him with my skate.”

Otabek laughed at Yurio’s spot on impression of Viktor and the outraged expression on his face. 

“You know he takes the coaching more seriously than that,” Otabek chided him gently. “Weren’t you telling me how late he stays at the rink and how you thought he was putting in more hours than Yakov used to?”

Yurio grumbled something unintelligible and then exhaled loudly. “Yeah,” he admitted. “I did say that.” He blew the hair out of his face before continuing. “I think he’s working too hard, Beka. When he was skating and coaching he was working hard too but nothing like this. He’s always been intense but he’s taken it to a new level lately.”

“Go on,” Otabek said. Yurio wasn’t frowning. He actually looked concerned.

“He’s been working us hard but it’s almost like he’s got something to prove too,” Yurio paused and then continued. “I guess in his mind he does. Nobody else thinks so—everyone saw how Katsuki improved with Viktor coaching him and then how he was still able to successfully coach him while returning to skating himself—and both of them still managing to win time after time.” Yurio’s eyebrows drew together. “He’s being an idiot if he thinks people don’t respect him as a coach.”

“Did you really just say that?” Otabek’s eyes were wide. “Are you feeling ok?”

“Shut up, Beka. Viktor drives me insane and he’s annoying as hell but even I can’t argue that he’s anything but an amazing choreographer and coach. There aren’t many people who could have stepped in for Yakov, with no notice, and kept the team focused and competitive,” Yurio admitted slowly. “But don’t you dare ever tell him I told you that! Or I will cut you with my skate!”

“I won’t tell him!” Otabek threw his hands in the air and then smiled at Yurio again. “That’s why I want Viktor to coach me, Yura,” Otabek reminded him.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. So you’ve said,” Yurio grumbled.

“Well it’s not like you don’t want him to keep coaching you too!” Otabek pointed out.

“Damn right I do! I can’t have him coaching my competition and not me!”

Otabek’s real smile came blazing through the screen at him. It always made him feel proud when Yurio compared him to Yuuri or to himself.

“Shut up, Beka,” Yurio said, a smile on his face despite his words. He knew how statements like that affected Otabek. 

But it was all true. Otabek may not be having his greatest season but then again neither was Yurio. He had seen what a strong competitor Otabek could be. They had competed together at Worlds and at the Grand Prix more than once. He was a serious contender and Yurio would admit that even if they weren’t friends.

“Yura, it’s late here and today was brutal. I’ve got to get some sleep,” Otabek yawned and then reached his hand out and placed it on the screen, Yurio’s meeting his almost instantly. 

“Get some rest, Beka. I’ll talk to you later this week.”

“Good night, Yura.”

Otabek shut down his computer screen and pushed back from his desk. The ice pack around his knee wasn’t cold anymore. He pulled it off and tentatively flexed and extended his knee a few times. The twinge was still there and flexing it further just intensified the discomfort. 

He’d twisted it awkwardly today attempting to land a quad flip. There was no reason for Yurio to know—he’d only worry. He flexed and extended it a few more time, wincing as he did. He should probably see the team doctor tomorrow before he tried to skate on it. There was no way he could trust it for more than glides and some step sequences—it felt much too stiff.

Four Continents was less than a month away and Worlds the month after that. This wasn’t a good time for this to happen.

He stared at the calendar on his desk. Yura’s eighteenth birthday was just after Four Continents. He would see his friend again at Worlds of course but the months between the Grand Prix Final and Worlds were far too long. It was getting harder and harder to be away from him for such extended periods of time. 

His coach wouldn’t permit him fly out for the European Championships, so close to Otabek’s own competition. He’d hoped to get to St. Petersburg to suprise Yuri for his birthday but this injury could interfere with those plans. He really wanted some time with Yuri that wasn’t focused on their competitions—some time for just the two of them. There were things Otabek wanted to say.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my thanks to forochel for giving me some needed motivation!

 

 

Yuuri always enjoyed the European Championships. It was nice to be at a competition but not be the one competing. It would be odd not cheering for Viktor this year but it would be fun to see Chris and their other friends again. And it was always a joy to watch Yurio skate. Even this year, which was proving a challenge for the younger skater. Just like Viktor—Yurio always had something to surprise the onlookers.

 

Viktor had made sure the Russian team arrived three days before the start of the competition. He had given them a free day to start—to get them relaxed and comfortable with the venue. To Yurio’s annoyance it had also given Viktor a chance to take Yuuri sightseeing; the fact that he had tagged along with them had not made him any less irritated however. Yuuri smiled as he recalled Yurio’s near-continuous grumbling.

 

Chris had arrived the day after. Yuuri and Viktor were meeting him at the bar before going out to dinner. He had grown to truly enjoy Chris’ company. He had been shocked and slightly scandalized the first few times he had met the Swiss skater but they had grown very close over the last two years. He had been such a good friend to Viktor for so long and Yuuri truly treasured that fact.

 

Yuuri had realized early on that Chris was very similar to Viktor; he had a public ‘face’ that exuded sex appeal but behind that sultry persona he was actually a very down-to-earth, kind, generous, caring friend. Yuuri had met Matthias, Chris’ partner, at the Barcelona Grand Prix. He had been surprised at the time to learn that Chris was in a long-term, committed relationship. It had been at odds with the public image Yuuri was familiar with but perfectly in line with the Chris he had come to know over these past two years. It would be good to see Matthias again too.

 

Chris was planning on retiring after Worlds this year. He had not made any announcement yet but he had spoken to Yuuri and Viktor about it at the Grand Prix. He had sustained injuries over the years that had become frustratingly persistent in flaring up at inopportune times, despite the physical therapy and anti-inflammatories that he consistently treated them with; after over two years of dealing with it all Chris was ready to hang up his skates. He was quite confident that he would find work as a commentator—he had no interest in coaching or choreographing. Yuuri was sure Chris would provide unique, insightful commentary, not to mention some spice to the broadcasts.

 

He checked his watch. Yuuri had returned to their hotel room early, leaving Viktor at the rink with the women’s team. He should be back shortly—they were meeting Chris and Matthias soon. He clicked on the television and flipped through the channels as he waited.

 

Viktor was frazzled when he arrived over a half hour later. One of his skaters had broken a skate at practice. She had brought spares but had been fussing at Viktor about how they ‘didn’t feel right.’  He had stayed late at the rink to work with her but was worried he would have to find new skates for her in Ostrava if she kept complaining.

 

He was explaining all this to Yuuri, as he paced in their hotel room, furiously tapping at his phone. “Emil said he has a skate place that can deliver skates to the rink for Katya tomorrow. I think that’s the only other option we have,” Viktor said to Yuuri, finally shoving his phone in his pocket and raking a hand through his hair. He glanced at the clock on the nightstand. “When are we meeting Chris?”

 

“In about ten minutes,” Yuuri said, his forehead creasing as he met Viktor’s eyes. “No time for a shower, I’m afraid.”

 

Viktor exhaled and rubbed his forehead. “It’s not like Chris and Matthias haven’t seen me like this before,” he finally said.

 

“Sit, Vitya,” Yuuri ordered, standing up and pulling the desk chair out for Viktor. “Take your coat off. We don’t have to leave right this minute.”  Yuuri grabbed his phone and punched out a quick text. “Sit,” he repeated.

 

Viktor sat in the chair, leaning back heavily. Yuuri came to stand behind him and started kneading his shoulder muscles. Viktor groaned and sunk ever further down. “I texted Chris we would just meet at the restaurant. I’m not going to have you go rushing out after the day you’ve had, Vitenka.”

 

Viktor let his head drop back and gazed up at Yuuri, his upside-down face almost comical. “Thank you, my Yuuri. What would I ever do without you?”

 

Yuuri leaned down and gave him a kiss on the forehead. “Just Four Continents and Worlds after this; then you can have some well-deserved rest.”

 

Dinner with Chris and Matthias ended up being just the thing. Their warm regard, humorous stories and banter lifted Viktor’s spirits and Yuuri’s as well. By the end of dinner Viktor was telling the broken skate story in an entertaining fashion and Yuuri could tell he had finally relaxed. He made a mental note to offer to be the go-between on the skate issue the next day so Viktor could concentrate. It would be one less thing for him to worry about.

 

They ran into Emil and the Crispinos in the hotel lobby when they returned from dinner, joining them in the bar to catch up. Yuuri coordinated with Emil on the skate shop info, confident that he could at least put Viktor’s mind at ease about that.

 

It was odd that Yurio hadn’t sought them out. The teen wasn’t friendly with many of the other skaters here and usually tagged along with Viktor and Yuuri, complaining the whole time. Yuuri pulled out his phone and sent him a quick text. The reply came surprisingly quickly.

 

YURIO: Seriously, katsudon. I don’t want to be around you two all the time. I needed a break.

 

YUURI: did you eat?

 

YURIO: you are such a mom friend, katsudon. I know how to order food, ok? I had room service send something up. I didn’t feel like dealing with all the people, you know?

 

YUURI: Ok. Just wanted to check in. Get some sleep and we’ll see you in the morning.  
  
YURIO: yeah, yeah. Whatever.

 

A few minutes passed and Yuuri’s phone chimed again.

 

YURIO: Thanks for checking on me, katsudon.

 

Yuuri smiled down at his phone. Yurio really was growing up.

 

____________________________________________________________________

 

 

Yurio set his phone down and pulled his laptop onto his lap. Try as he might he couldn’t be irritated with Yuuri. He had finally come to realize that the friendship they had was a precious thing. He wouldn’t admit that to anyone, of course, not even Otabek and certainly not Viktor.

 

Even Viktor’s friendship was meaningful to him. Despite how annoying Viktor could be, especially when he was right about something, Yurio had come to appreciate him more and more. Especially now that he had taken on the Russian team.

 

Yurio was in a far better frame of mind for the European Championships than he had been for the Grand Prix or Russian Nationals. The late nights working with Viktor were paying off. That and Lilia’s extra sessions, much as he hated them.

 

He was sick of stretching all the time but Viktor and Lilia--and Yakov, during their clandestine conversations when Lilia was occupied—had all stressed how imperative it was to stretch his growing muscles, to prevent overstraining the tendons and muscles so as to avoid injury or tendonitis. He was damned if he was going to listen to I-told-you-so’s from any of them if he didn’t stretch, so stretch he did, grumbling and complaining more out of habit than a real reason.

 

He had avoided the others so he could Skype with Otabek. It was a four-hour time difference to Almaty, so early evening was the best time for him to make the connection.  They had managed to speak but the Skype kept crashing, even though the service seemed fine in the hotel. Yurio had finally given up when the site crashed for the third time. He had finished his conversation with Otabek by text, which was not as satisfying.

 

He should probably go to bed but he wasn’t tired. The one thing he was tired of was seeing Otabek’s face on a screen. He wanted to see _him,_ not the image of him through a computer screen.

 

He shut his laptop screen in irritation. He wasn’t in the mood to watch a movie after all, it seemed. He picked up his phone, scrolling through his Instagram. Chris had posted a photo of the group in the bar downstairs, all of them pressed close together and laughing as they tried to fit their faces in for a selfie. It was a good thing Chris had long arms.

 

A part of Yurio longed to head down there, if nothing else to get his mind off Otabek. But it would probably only make him miss him more he decided.

 

Worlds was two months away. Yurio tossed his phone down on the bed. That was just too long. Four Continents was just two weeks away. Otabek would be competing there.

 

He ran his hands through his hair and then picked up his phone again. A non-stop flight would get him to Seoul in about 9 hours but he would have to fly Korean Airlines. All the Aeroflot flights were anywhere from 12 to 17 hours, with stops as well. He hated stops.

 

The price wasn’t as bad as he had expected for the Korean Airlines flight. He double checked the dates one more time and then entered his information to buy the ticket. The email confirmation followed moments later.

 

Viktor would have a fit. It would be nothing compared to the reaction Lilia and Yakov would have but Yurio didn’t care. He was going to Four Continents. He would cheer Otabek in person and Yuuri too. He didn’t have to give them any reasons other than that.

 

The fact that he _needed_ to see Otabek in person was something he could keep to himself.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a little bit of Otabek's point of view

 

 

The MRI had shown some fluid in the knee joint and a very small meniscal tear. At least that’s what the doctor said. “I would recommend modifying your activity on the ice. Let’s hold on the jumps for now,” Dr. Ivanov said.

 

It didn’t feel small to Otabek if it meant he couldn’t do jumps.

 

Dr. Ivanov had been the skating federation’s team doctor for years; he was a highly respected orthopaedic surgeon in Almaty.

 

“What about his activity off the ice?” Otabek’s coach Kiril asked, glancing at Otabek as he spoke.

 

“Weight training should be fine. Get in the pool and on an elliptical rather than running,” Dr. Ivanov said. “You need physical therapy.” The doctor was answering Kiril’s question but directing his gaze at Otabek. “You’ve got access to an underwater treadmill. Use that for your cardio. It’s a good way to transition you back to running.”

 

Otabek nodded. Four Continents was only a few weeks away. He had almost two months until Worlds. Those were the only questions he wanted to ask: could he compete?

 

But Kiril kept going on about the rehab. “We have an AlterG at the training facility now,” Kiril said.

 

“That’s perfect.” Dr. Ivanov’s eyes lit up. “With therapy, the pool workouts and the Alter G we should have you back to full activity fairly quickly, Otabek.” He met Otabek’s eyes. “Do you have any questions for me?”

 

“What about Four Continents?” Otabek asked.

 

“Let’s talk about that later,” Kiril suggested.

 

“That’s in two weeks?” Dr. Ivanov kept his attention on the skater, as if Kiril had not even spoken. Otabek nodded.

 

Dr. Ivanov frowned and Otabek’s stomach clenched. The doctor darted a look at Kiril now. “Cortisone is an option . . .”

 

Kiril shook his head. “Better we keep that as a last resort, yes? Worlds is in two months.”

 

The doctor nodded. “I don’t foresee a problem with Worlds. Four Continents is pushing it, Otabek,” he said decisively, his gaze returning to the skater sitting in front of him.

 

“Would cortisone help get me to Four Continents?” Otabek heard himself ask. He ignored Kiril’s grimace.

 

“It might,” Dr. Ivanov answered. “But which competition is more important, Otabek? I can only give you one in the timespan before Worlds.”

 

“Worlds,” Kiril interjected. “He needs to be in top form for Worlds.”

 

“It’s more than six weeks to Worlds,” Otabek stated, keeping his tone very even.

 

“Otabek.” Kiril was definitely frowning at him now.

 

Dr. Ivanov gave a sigh and leaned against the counter. “You’re right, Otabek, it is just over six weeks away.” The surgeon crossed his arms over his white coat. He met Otabek’s stony gaze. “Cortisone will help, I have very little doubt. But you’ll still need to do all the things I’ve already discussed. I won’t let you do jumps right away—even with the cortisone.” He raised an eyebrow. “It is going to be hard to train adequately for Four Continents without doing jumps.”

 

“I could use the harness,” Otabek said stubbornly.

 

A grunt exploded out of Kiril. “A harness isn’t the same and you know it, Otabek. Not this close to the event. Focus on Worlds—that’s what’s important. We might need that cortisone shot for Worlds so let’s not waste it on something that’s out of range already.”

 

“You’re the one who says it’s out of range,” Otabek replied.

 

“Dr. Ivanov said it as well,” Kiril pointed out.

 

The doctor nodded. “Focus on Worlds, Otabek. That’s the best thing to do.”

 

Otabek closed his eyes. Their argument was taking up Dr. Ivanov’s time. He and Kiril could fight this out on the car ride back to the training facility.

 _____________________________________________________________________ 

 

Kiril had unfortunately been obdurate in his opinion that they should withdraw Otabek from Four Continents and focus all their energy on Worlds.

 

Otabek had been just as obstinate in his disagreement with that plan. They had finally reached a tentative compromise; Kiril wouldn’t scratch Otabek yet and they would reassess the situation after their visit with Dr. Ivanov the next week. Neither of them was entirely happy with that plan but at least they had both agreed to it.

 

Otabek hated the AlterG; the sensation of weightlessness unnerved him and even though it was good to be getting the cardio workout the harness made him feel like he was wearing a huge inflatable diaper. He couldn’t get settled doing a workout when he was irritated. 

 

The pool was a more welcome change of pace. The underwater treadmill didn’t require any extraneous equipment and he found his running rhythm better there. He had not used a pool for exercise in years but swimming laps after his water running helped clear his head. He might have to think about adding the pool to his regular training regimen even after his knee was healed. If it healed. He didn’t want to think about that possibility too much.

 

Skype calls with Yuri had been less frequent this week due to the European Championships, although they still texted daily. Otabek had distracted Yuri with talk of the competition in Ostrava enough the week before and had been able to keep off the topic of his own training. Now that Yuri was actually at the Championships it was even easier to steer the conversation towards that, rather than anything to do with him. He was almost grateful for the spotty Skype service—Yuri was getting uncannily good at reading him even when he tried to maintain a stoic demeanor. Texts were far simpler to manage. Yuri had enough to worry about; he didn’t need to add Otabek’s injury to his list.

 

He would have to tell him about Four Continents sometime though. Otabek knew Yuri planned on watching it—he always did—and not just for Otabek, although he knew Yuri always cheered loudest for him. Yuri would just worry about him if he told him he might not be competing. He had already kept it from him for almost two weeks. A few more days wouldn’t make that big a difference. If his visit with Dr. Ivanov went well then maybe he wouldn’t have to tell Yuri at all.

 

_____________________________________________

 

 

Dr. Ivanov cleared him for jumps at the next visit. Kiril insisted on using the harness, despite Otabek’s strenuous objections. It was less than a week until Four Continents and Otabek hadn’t done even one jump out of the stupid harness. They had argued about it the entire practice and finally Kiril had reached the end of his patience with his skater.

 

He crossed his arms and glared at Otabek. “Fine. Come out of the harness. Show me a jump. Any jump you want except for a quad.”

 

Otabek disentangled himself from the harness and skated a few laps to loosen up. He would try a toe loop—that was one of the jumps that always came easily to him.  He picked up speed and decided to begin cautiously with a double toe loop.

 

He made it but wobbled on the landing. He skated around the rink again then pushed off for another. Better.

 

He skated past Kiril, his coach’s face stern and impassive, but his eyes watching Otabek intensely. He had to do more than doubles in less than five days if he was going to compete at Four Continents.

 

Otabek skated one more circuit around the rink and pushed off into a triple toe loop. What should have been a triple toe loop, he thought to himself as he hit the ice. He couldn’t remember the last time he had fallen on that jump. He picked himself up and tried again. He didn’t fall this time but it was a terrible landing. He tried again. And again.

 

Until Kiril’s voice cut across the ice. “Otabek!” He picked himself up off the ice after that last unsuccessful triple, skated over to the wall reluctantly and stood, face impassive, in front of Kiril.

 

“Practice is done for today. Shower and go home. I’ll see you in the morning,” Kiril ordered.

 

“It’s not even midday. There’s no reason to quit early. I’m not tired,” Otabek objected.

 

“I don’t care what time it is. I don’t care if you aren’t tired. You are done for today. You are going to hurt yourself if you keep going.” Kiril leaned across the barrier and gripped Otabek’s shoulders. “You are not ready for Four Continents. You have done everything possible to get ready but you just can’t rush this kind of thing, Otabek. You need to heal and you need to let yourself do that.” Kiril squeezed his shoulders and his gaze softened. “I’ll wait until the day we were supposed to arrive to scratch so you aren’t bombarded with messages before then, but I am withdrawing you from the competition.” Kiril squeezed again before letting go. “You know this is the right thing to do. We need to focus on Worlds.”

 

All the fight went out of Otabek and his shoulders slumped as he leaned his elbows against the barrier and dropped his head in his hands. He felt Kiril’s arms go around him and his coach’s voice spoke quietly to him. “It’s the right thing to do,” Kiril repeated.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> an AlterG is a treadmill that can be configured to reduce the force of impact--down to 10% of body weight even. Runners can then incrementally increase their impact as they improve in their training. It's useful for post injury return to sport rehab. It does have an harness that is somewhat awkward looking and feeling. It might be a bit of overkill for Otabek's injury but he's lucky to have it available.  
> An underwater treadmill is just that--a treadmill. It gives a sensation of buoyancy and reduces the forces of impact but not as significantly as an AlterG. No harnesses or straps.


	10. Chapter 10

Yuri turned his phone off. It was something he rarely even considered doing but he knew he would be tempted to post something and inadvertently reveal his location. He did not want Victor or Yuuri knowing he was on his way to Four Continents yet and he certainly wasn’t about to spoil his surprise for Otabek. Georgi would have a fit when he found out Yuri was gone but he really didn't care about that. It might be fun to watch Victor chew Georgi out about losing track of him. Actually, it would be more than fun to watch that.

Yakov and Lilia had easily swallowed the story that he was spending time with Grandpa. Yuri thought he should feel a little bit bad about lying to them but he dismissed the thought before it could really take hold in his mind. He would deal with them when he returned. He did feel bad not telling Grandpa about it but a few phone calls to him would sort that out. Yuri suspected his grandfather would understand his reasoning far better than any of the others.

He had reluctantly told Mila. Right before he left for the airport. He had debated the issue but finally decided someone needed to know, just in case. In case of what, he wasn't quite sure, but she knew and he had rained threats on her not to disclose his plans to anyone. At least not until he showed up at Four Continents anyway. He was pretty sure she wasn't going to spill the information. Yuri had a feeling Mila was looking forward to Georgi's reaction to finding him gone.  
  
He was early. The flight to Seoul didn’t leave for a few hours yet but he had been too agitated to wait at home. He stowed his phone in his pocket, pulled his hood up some more and wandered over the nearby airport bookstore. He needed something to distract him on the flight.  
  
Books and magazines in hand he shuffled to his gate, sunglasses on, hoodie up, situating himself in the most remote and secluded section of seats as he waited for the boarding call.  
  
_______________________________________

They were two days away from the start of the Men's competition. Victor was scrolling through his phone, reviewing his skaters' film clips that Georgi had sent him from the home rink in St. Petersburg, while he and Yuuri waited for their lunch. He refreshed the link, wondering if Georgi had forgotten to send Yurio's video. He emailed his critiques back, questioned Georgi on the missing clip of Yurio then signed off.

Yuuri had responded to a few sponsor emails and was now scrolling through social media. Victor had managed to steal these few days to himself—Georgi covering in his absence—so he and Yuuri had come to Pyeongchang days before the Four Continents competition. It was wonderful to have time together with no obligations or interruptions. They had found time for leisurely sightseeing and shopping but also made time for the obligatory skating practices as well. It was almost like the old days—when Victor had first started coaching Yuuri.  
  
He put his phone down and smiled at his fiancé, reaching a hand across the table to grasp Yuuri’s.  
  
Yuuri looked up at him with a smile of his own. “What?” he asked Victor.  
  
“Just admiring my Yuuri,” Victor answered.  
  
It still made Yuuri blush when Victor said things like that but he had become far better at accepting the praise. He tangled his fingers in Victor’s and smiled back, even as his cheeks remained pink from his fiance's words. “It’s been so nice having time with just you, Vitya.”  
  
“That’s exactly what I was thinking!” Victor said. “It made me think of Barcelona, our first year together.” The fond look in Yuuri’s eyes grew at Victor’s words. “I want us to get married, Yuuri, when this season is over, when we go to Hasetsu. I know we’ve talked about it but we’ve waited long enough. Let’s just do it.”  
  
Yuuri nodded and a mischievous look came over his face. “You’re sure you don’t want to wait until next spring, for the cherry blossoms?”  
  
“Yuuri!” Victor admonished, his eyes wide. “I am not waiting any longer. I would have done it anytime but I know how much you want your family to be there for it.” He squeezed Yuuri’s hand. “After Worlds, when we go back to Japan. We can plan it for the summer.”  
  
“It’s a lot to plan in a short amount of time, Vitya,” Yuuri worried.  
  
Victor waved a hand in the air dismissively. “We’re not going to have a big affair. The beach is fine with me. There aren’t that many people to invite.” He tilted his head, his silver hair falling over his forehead. “It’s the off-season for all the skaters anyway. Chris is retiring after Worlds as it is, so he can help us plan it.”  
  
“I would think he has things he wants to do with Matthias, now that they will have the time,” Yuuri said diplomatically. The thought of Chris planning part of the wedding was a somewhat alarming one. He had impeccable taste and Yuuri was sure his suggestions for clothing, venue and decorations would be splendid but he dreaded any stories the Swiss skater might decide to tell at the reception. Yuuri was certain that he would have to expressly forbid him from setting up a pole on the dance floor.  
  
Victor waved his hand again. “Chris got his ordination to perform civil ceremonies. He’s been begging me to set a date so he can marry us himself. He won’t let anything get in the way of officiating and he and Matthias can make a vacation out of their trip to Japan for our wedding.”  
  
"I don't know that I’ll feel truly married if it’s Chris officiating,” Yuuri fussed. “It will seem like one of his pranks.”  
  
Victor frowned. “Yuuri, you know how serious Chris is about us. It’s practically the only thing he’s serious about." Victor’s face broke into a smile. “And if he’s officiating and not my best man then he can’t tell as many embarrassing stories about me at the reception.”  
  
“I’m not sure that will stop him,” Yuuri muttered. His eyes softened and his thumb traced circles on the back of Victor’s hand. “It sounds lovely, Vitya. It’s something to look forward to. And at least we’ll have a document in hand to back it all up, even if Chris ends up performing the ceremony.” Yuuri raised an eyebrow at Victor. “I know he’s your best friend and I know I let myself worry too much about what outrageous thing he’s going to do next. I just have to remind myself of what you keep telling me—that’s not all there is to Chris.” Yuuri sighed. “I know that. I’ve seen that. I just let my mind go when I think about what he could get up to.”  
  
“He loves you too much to upset you, zolotse. He loves me too much to upset you. You know how much of that is simply his public persona. I wasn’t the only skater to wear a mask, you know.” Victor squeezed Yuuri’s fingers as he spoke.  
  
It was true, Yuuri had to admit. He had learned that many of the smiles that had appeared on Victor’s face on the posters in Yuuri’s old bedroom in Hasetsu were in fact not true smiles. They had been part of Victor’s public face and it had not taken long for Yuuri to realize that, when Victor moved to Japan. He knew from his relationship with Victor, and from his own years of friendship with Chris, that it was much the same story with their Swiss friend. And those two were not the only ones.  
  
Chris had figured out a persona that appealed to the public, one that was based on just one facet of his true personality, and he had utilized it with great success. Yuuri really didn’t have so much to worry about. Chris really did care more about their friendship and his behavior in the privacy of Hasetsu would certainly not be the public face he wore at competitions.  
  
But the revelation that Chris had volunteered to officiate their wedding left an opening for the role of Victor’s best man. “Who’s going to be your best man, then?” Yuuri asked Victor. “If Chris isn’t, is it going to be Yakov?”  
  
It was Victor’s turn to look thoughtful. “No, Yakov has always been more of a father figure to me. I was thinking of asking Yuratchka to be my best man.”  
  
Yuuri laughed. “Oh Victor! It’s perfect—he’ll fuss and complain but you know he’ll be so touched that you thought of him in such a way. He’s got so few friends that it will mean so much to him.” Yuuri grinned. “But you know he’ll never let you know that. I expect he’ll be grumpier than usual just to make up for it.”  
  
“Which is why it’s perfect that Otabek is considering moving to Japan for me to coach him! If anyone can keep Yurio from being grumpy, it’s Otabek.” Victor got a thoughtful look on his face as he spoke.  
  
Yuuri’s smile grew wider at his words. “It’s really going to happen then? Otabek’s going to follow us to Hasetsu?” he asked.  
  
“I believe so. I spoke to him recently again and he was planning to speak to Kiril. Once he tells Kiril it’s a done deal, I think,” Victor said. “I expect he’s arriving today, for the competition.”  
  
Yuuri nodded. He knew Otabek usually arrived no more than two days prior to competition so Victor was correct—today would be the day.  
  
Their food arrived and they ate it in an unhurried fashion, letting themselves finally talk earnestly about the wedding plans that had been on their minds for the past two years; they had never been given adequate time, in the midst of their competitive schedules and commitments. Once Yuuri retired, after Worlds, they would finally have the ability to devote themselves to making that dream a reality.  
  
They were pleasantly debating the merits of having their friends stay at the onsen for the wedding versus having them off site, when Victor’s phone rang and they both looked at it curiously. It was rare that anyone actually called Victor anymore—Yakov and Lilia being the notable exceptions.  
  
Victor picked up the call, the curiosity visible on his face as he saw Otabek’s name on the caller ID.  
  
“Otabek!” He exclaimed, as he answered the phone. “Are you at the hotel? Are you free for dinner later?” He paused to allow Otabek to answer and his face grew still and serious. “I’m sorry to hear that,” he said at last. “I think you and Kiril are making the right decision. No, I haven’t spoken to Yura. I have no idea why he’s not picking up his calls.”  
  
Victor looked at Yuuri. “Has Yurio been on Instagram or Snapchat today?” he asked his fiancé quietly, then returned his attention to the Kazakh skater. “Yes, definitely, I understand you want him to hear it from you directly. I’ll have him call you if we hear from him. Thank you for calling me, Otabek. Stay in touch and let me know how your progress is. I look forward to seeing you at Worlds.”  
  
“No posts from Yurio at all today, which is a bit odd,” Yuuri said, looking up from scanning his phone. “What’s going on, Vitya?”  
  
“Otabek twisted his knee. He thought he could push through it but the MRI showed a small meniscal tear. Kiril and the doctor both advised skipping Four Continents and focusing his rehab towards making it to Worlds.” Victor made a face. “Otabek didn’t quite agree with their recommendations but he finally realized they were right. The announcement that he’s withdrawing from Four Continents will come today. He wanted to let Yurio know before it went up on social media but he can’t seem to track him down.”  
  
“Oh Otabek,” Yuuri said. He had felt a shiver go up his spine at the words ‘MRI’ and ‘meniscus tear’—words no skater wants to hear.  
  
“It sounds like it’s a small enough tear where he won’t need surgery for it,” Victor said reassuringly. “He needs to lay off the jumps for a bit, work with his physical therapist and use a harness to decrease the load when he starts jumps again.”  
  
“You sound like you’re speaking from personal experience,” Yuuri stated, narrowing his eyes at Victor. “When did you tear a meniscus?” he asked. “I don’t remember ever reading about that,” he added accusingly.  
  
Victor laughed. “Not even my biggest fan got the scoop on that,” he said, noting Yuuri’s irritated expression. “Oh, Yuuri. It was after Worlds a few years ago. I went skiing with Chris and tweaked it.”

Yuuri’s face was still stern. “I remember the ski vacation photos,” Yuuri said grudgingly, his tone making Victor laugh again. “But I thought you were on some beach vacation after that.”  
  
The intermittent revelations of the depth of Yuuri’s dedication as a fan still surprised Victor at times. “I did have a beach vacation,” Victor admitted. “I went to California to see a knee specialist Yakov recommended. I stayed for six weeks ‘enjoying the sunshine’ and doing some adverts while I rehabbed my knee.”  
  
“I never knew that,” Yuuri said, a frown on his face.  
  
“Luckily no one did, other than Yakov and the doctor in Los Angeles. I went back to St. Petersburg and started off doing my jumps in the harness—the story was that I was trying for a quad axel.”  
  
“I remember that!” Yuuri exclaimed, bouncing in his seat. “I knew if anyone could do it, it would be you!” Yuuri’s eyes sparkled as he beamed at him and Victor was struck once more by how deeply invested Yuuri had been in him and his skating career. It was endearing but also a little daunting. He had never really considered quite how profoundly he touched others’ lives until he met Yuuri.  
  
“Well, I certainly wasn’t practicing quad axels!” Victor said. “Yakov had put the rink on press lockdown during those weeks but someone got a photo of me in the harness anyway so he spun his story about the axel. I was doing all my triples and quads in the harness to spare my knee. Luckily it worked. Sounds like Kiril is suggesting the same plan to Otabek.”  
  
“So Yurio doesn’t know yet?”  
  
Victor’s forehead creased. “No and I’m a bit concerned about that. Otabek tried calling him but all the calls are going right to voicemail. No answer on texts either. He’s been silent on social media too, by what you found. That’s not like him.”  
  
Yuuri got a sinking sensation in his stomach. Victor was right. This wasn’t typical Yurio behavior at all. He never turned his phone off and there were usually at least one or two posts a day on social media, if not more.  
  
Yurio hadn’t had a social media blackout that Yuuri could remember except . . . except the time he had come to Hasetsu chasing down Victor.  
  
The queasy sensation intensified. Yuuri met Victor’s eyes and he could see Victor’s mind had followed the same path to that realization. They stared at each other, wide-eyed.  
  
“He was annoyed you wouldn’t let him come to Four Continents,” Yuuri stuttered.  
  
“He’d been wanting to see Otabek,” Victor added.  
  
“He’s done this before,” Yuuri pointed out..  
  
“When he came after me to Japan,” Victor interrupted, standing up.  
  
“His phone’s off because he’s traveling.” Yuuri stood up as well.  
  
“He probably wanted to surprise Otabek,” Victor was scrabbling in his wallet, scattering a wad of cash on the table. There was no time to wait for the bill.  
  
Yuuri looked at his watch. “He’s probably already landed in Seoul.”  
  
“And is on the train to Pyeonchang,” Victor added.  
  
“We’ve got to get to the hotel!” Yuuri grabbed Victor’s wrist and yanked him away from the table.  
  
___________________________________________________________  
  
Yuri was irritated. He’d landed in Seoul, figured out which train to take to get to Pyeonchang and actually made it onto the correct one. But his stupid phone was pissing him off. He thought he’d turned it off at the airport in St. Petersburg. He’d had to use every ounce of his willpower not to use it on the plane and now here he was, on the train, with a dead phone. Battery zero.  
  
He didn’t know what had gone wrong with it but the end result was a non-functional phone. At least he remembered the name of the hotel. He’d just take a cab from the train station and charge the damn thing when he got to his room.  
  
He was itching to get on Instagram or Snapchat. He wanted to text Beka. Damn it.  
  
This was just like that time he’d gone to Japan and put himself on social media blackout. But at least his phone still worked then. He should look into upgrading it when he got home. The battery life was fucking pathetic.  
  
He thought his day couldn’t get any worse but when the cab pulled up to the hotel the two idiots were standing outside annoying everyone by meeting each taxi and hovering as the doors opened. What the hell were they up to? Victor’s hair was a mess, as if he’d been running his hands through it—which was exactly what he did as Yuri watched him. Katsudon was blinking rapidly behind his glasses, always a sure sign of agitation.

Fuck. Now they were going to see him. His cab was almost at the hotel entrance. He looked at the meter, scrabbled through his wallet and gave the cash to the driver. “Getting out now!” he warned the driver, yanking his door open and pulling his carryon after him.  
  
His hood was up, his sunglasses were on and he thought he had a chance to slink by while the two old geezers were occupied with other taxis.

He was wrong. He hadn’t taken more than two steps when he heard Victor’s shout of “Yura!”  
  
A frantic “Yuri!” from Katusudon followed swiftly after and he knew his escape was a lost cause. They both usually called him Yurio so the use of his given name was a little disconcerting, as was the fact that they seemed to be expecting him. He thought he’d been better at being subtle.  
  
He stopped, let his shoulders slump and put on his most ferocious scowl as the two most annoying people on earth rushed to his side.  
  
Not his side. Damn it. They were both hugging him so hard he could barely breathe and babbling at him incoherently as well.  
  
“What the fuck!” he yelled, shoving ineffectually at the tangle of their arms. “Get off me, assholes!” His growth spurt was at least proving useful for something; he managed to shove Katsuki away easily but Victor was still clinging to him. “Victor, so help me, GET OFF!” he bellowed, finally disentangling himself and shutting the older skate up at the same time. “What the hell is wrong with you two? You look like shit. Shouldn't you be practicing or sightseeing or something?" He glared at them, then realized they weren’t getting the full effect of his wrath with his sunglasses still in place. He ripped them off. “Why are you out here harassing taxis?”  
  
“We were looking for you!” Victor exclaimed.  
  
Yuri froze, his mouth open. “Looking for me?” he asked faintly. How did they know he would be here?  
  
“How the hell did you know I was going to be here?” he spat out. “I didn’t tell anyone.”  
  
“You haven’t been on social media,” Yuuri said.  
  
“Otabek said your phone was going straight to voicemail,” Victor added.  
  
“The same thing happened when you followed Victor to Japan,” Yuuri interjected.  
  
“I never followed Victor to Japan,” Yuri corrected him. “I came there to drag his ass back home. I don’t follow people.”  
  
“Then why are you here?” Victor asked curiously.  
  
Yuri growled in response and Victor’s eyes lit up. “You’re here to cheer my Yuuri on, aren’t you?” He engulfed Yuri in a hug again resulting in furious squawking from the younger skater and a flurry of cursing.  
  
“Will you stop that? Seriously Victor, what the fuck?” Yuri extricated himself and shoved Victor away again for good measure. “I am not here for you or for the Katsudon. He doesn’t need a cheering section anyway—he’s already got you and you’re ridiculous enough when he skates—but he’s also got Phichit, Leo and Ji here and who knows what other idiots to cheer for him when they aren’t trying to beat him themselves.” He paused and pointed to himself. “I’m here for Otabek.”  
  
He was disturbed to see a fond, knowing smile come over Victor’s face and even more irritated at Yuuri’s comment to Victor. “That’s what I told you, Victor—that he was likely coming to see Otabek,” the Japanese skater said, leaning towards his fiancé.  
  
Yuri glared at him. “Why is it such a big deal? Beka’s my friend. I don’t have anything coming up in the next few weeks.” He turned his glare onto Victor, who continued to smile at him benignly. “I’ll keep my cardio up while I’m here and you can find me rink time so I can practice, Mr. Russian Federation Coach.” Yuri poked Victor in the chest with each word of his coaching title.  
  
“Yes, fine, I can find you rink time,” Victor said absently. “But don’t you know? Haven’t you checked your phone at all? When did you last talk to Otabek?”  
  
“Listen, geezer, I’m here to surprise Otabek. Of course I haven’t talked to him yet today. My stupid ass phone died sometime while we were in the air and I haven’t had a chance to charge it yet.”  
  
Two sets of wide eyes stared at him.  
  
“Fuck! Stop looking at me like that. You look like some creepy fucking anime characters!” Yuri roared.  
  
“He doesn’t know,” Victor said mournfully.  
  
“He doesn’t know,” Yuuri agreed.  
  
“What don’t I know? Crap, I didn’t think you two could get any more annoying . . .” then Yuri froze, his voice dropping and cracking over the next words. “It’s not Yakov is it? Tell me nothing’s happened to Yakov!”  
  
And then they were hugging him again, damn it. “No, it’s not Yakov,” Victor mumbled in his ear before Yuri was able to extract himself from their octopus-like grip. “It’s Otabek. He pulled out of Four Continents.” Victor said, then clapped a hand over his mouth with a startled expression just as the Japanese skater smacked him on the shoulder and sighed.  
  
“Victor, you idiot,” Yuuri said affectionately.

A chill came over Yuri. “What did you say?”  
  
Victor blinked at him. “I’m sorry. I should have let him tell you himself. You should call Otabek.”  
  
“Tell me what?” Yuri couldn’t believe how calm his voice was even as he felt his hands shaking.  
  
Yuuri’s hand fell onto Yuri’s shoulder. “He’s pulled out of Four Continents, like Victor said. You really should call him so he can speak to you himself.” Yuuri sent a glare Victor’s way. “He did want to tell you himself. He’s been trying to reach you all day. When he couldn’t get you, he called Victor.”  
  
“He wanted to tell you himself, before Kiril made the official announcement,” Victor explained. “He’ll be so upset when he hears you flew out here.”  
  
“Victor!” Yuuri admonished, smacking his fiance’s shoulder again. “He doesn’t need to hear that right now.” Yuuri looked at the younger skater. “When’s your flight back?”  
  
“The morning after the exhibition skate,” Yuri said automatically, then glared at Victor as the older skater protested.  
  
“You were planning on missing a whole week of practice? Before Worlds? You . . .” Victor spluttered but stopped talking when Yuuri grabbed his shoulder in a vice-like grip.  
  
“Victor, stop,” Yuuri said, staring up at Victor meaningfully before turning to Yuri. “Let’s get you checked in. Maybe you can catch an earlier flight home.” Yuuri pushed Victor ahead of him into the hotel lobby, Yuri numbly following behind.  
  
He had come here to surprise Beka but the surprise was on him. Beka wasn’t here. Beka wasn’t going to be here. Had already pulled out of Four Continents. He hadn’t said anything about it. He would have told Yuri if he was injured, right?  
  
Injury had to be the reason, Yuri thought to himself. What else could it be? But why hadn’t Otabek said anything?

“Is he ok?” Yuri heard himself ask. “Is he going to be ok? It’s not anything serious, is it?”  
  
He saw Yuuri and Victor exchange glances and something shifted in him. He clutched Yuuri’s sleeve. “He’s going to be ok, right?” he repeated, his voice cracking again, damn it.  
  
Victor’s hands were on his shoulders, warm and steady. “It’s nothing serious, Yuratchka.” He pressed his forehead against the younger skater’s. “It’s a minor meniscal tear. He won’t even need to have surgery. He just has to rest and rehab to be ready for Worlds.” He squeezed Yuri’s shoulders comfortingly. “It’s nothing more concerning than that.” Victor sighed and then continued. “I’m sorry I worried you. It came out wrong and I apologize. He wanted to tell you himself but I didn’t mean to worry you so much.”  
  
“You really are the world’s biggest idiot, Victor.” Yuri said weakly. “I’d tell you to fuck off but I’m just glad Beka’s not more seriously injured.” He pulled back to glare at Victor. “But seriously, you are the absolute worst at this shit, you know?” He pulled out of Victor’s grip. “You’re going to give Katsudon a heart attack if one of your kids ever gets a splinter, old man. Think before you open your mouth sometime.” Yuri grabbed his carry on and stalked into the hotel, leaving the other two behind.  
  
“Kids?” Victor said. “Kids?” he repeated.  
  
Yuuri rolled his eyes and pulled on Victor’s arm to drag him into the hotel. “He’s right, you know,” he said to the older Russian. “If you ever call me to tell me one of our kids is injured and you do it like that, Victor, I swear to God I will kill you myself, despite the fact that you are the love of my life.”  
  
“Kids?” Victor said again, his mouth taking on that heart shape that Yuuri adored. “Yuratchka was talking about us having kids.”  
  
“Victor! We’ve got a kid to keep an eye on right now. And he’s mighty pissed off at us both. Come on.” Yuuri dragged Victor to the front desk, where Yuri was still checking in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've got ideas about the wedding, officiating and recognition of their marriage and I've done some research online. It's a little more complicated than Victor thinks but we'll get to the details in later chapters. Hope you like how the story is progressing! Drop me a line or a comment if you can--it lets me know how I'm doing and often gives me ideas for where to take the story next!


	11. Chapter 11

 

 

Yuri was finally alone in his room. He had endured another clinging group hug from Victor and Yuuri. They had finally agreed to leave him on his own, but only after extracting the promise that he would join them for dinner and not spend the evening sulking alone in his room. Yuri could sulk just as easily with them or without them and he wasn’t about to turn down a free meal.

 

Yuri had been tempted to refuse their invitation but he had caught the worried look in Victor’s eyes and had realized that no matter how much Yuuri and Victor annoyed him, they had still managed to make him feel welcome and cared for. He had only recently come to terms with how much that actually mattered to him.

 

The first order of business was to charge his damn phone. He plugged it in, shaking his head at the blank screen and made his way to the bathroom to shower.

 

By the time he finished the phone had returned to life and multiple notifications were lighting up the screen—most prominently a series of texts from Otabek along with a string of missed calls.

 

He glanced at the clock and did the calculation in his head. Still morning in Almaty. He sat on the bed and picked up the phone, still tethered to its charger, to text Otabek when the ringtone went off.

 

It was Otabek. He clenched the phone tightly and punched the ‘answer’ icon.

 

“Yura!” The voice on the call spoke before Yuri could even choke out a greeting. Otabek’s tone was worried and his voice was gruff as the words spilled out of him. “I couldn’t reach you. I tried for hours. I finally called Victor. Is everything ok . . .”

 

It was the most flustered Yuri had ever heard him and even as he felt a warm flush come over him at the palpable concern in Otabek’s voice he could not keep his own disappointment and frustration at bay. “What the fuck, Beka? You’re injured, out of Four Continents and I have to find out like this? I’m literally the last person to know?” Yuri snarled into the phone.

 

“Victor told you,” Otabek said, his tone flat.

 

“Yeah, he did. And don’t give me any of that crap about telling Victor not to tell me or wanting to let me know yourself. Victor’s usually a complete moron but for once he did the right thing and told me what’s going on. You sure as hell didn’t.”

 

“Yura, why do you think I was trying to reach you? I wanted to tell you myself,” Otabek said.

 

“You had plenty of time to do it. You waited until the last minute instead.”

 

“I thought I could still do it, be ready in time,” Otabek said.

 

“Yeah, well it would’ve saved me a whole lot of time and money if you’d just told me, Beka. Told me when you got hurt. Told me there was a chance you might not make it here. Then I might have come to Almaty instead of fucking Pyeonchang!”

 

There was a choked off expletive on the line and then Otabek’s voice stuttered through again. “Pyeonchang? You . . . you’re in Pyeonchang?”

 

“Yes, asshole. That’s why I wasn’t answering my phone. I flew out here to fucking Four Continents to surprise you but the fucking surprise was on me.” Yuri ran a hand through his still damp hair, sweat starting to bead on his forehead as he spoke. He clenched the phone harder. He had never really yelled _at_ Beka like this before; he’d mostly yelled about other people _to_ Beka.

 

He wasn’t really pissed about the money or even the time away from the rink. Part of him was mad about that, sure. It was a risk to take time off so close to Worlds. But the dawning realization came to him that he was far more hurt than angry, which only infuriated him more.

 

Beka was his best friend. They were always open with each other—about everything. Well, almost everything, Yuri amended but that issue wasn’t the focus right now. It was the reason he was here in Pyeonchang though, he reminded himself. 

 

He shook his head. That wasn’t the point right now. Beka had kept this from him, hadn’t shared something personal like this with him and that hurt Yuri.

 

“You’re really in Pyeonchang?” Otabek repeated, causing Yuri to growl in response.

 

“Are you just going to keep repeating that?”

 

“Yura.” The voice was so laden with regret that Yuri paused his next barrage to listen. “Yura, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. I didn’t think. I didn’t want you to worry with Europeans coming up and then . . .”

 

Europeans? The word halted Yuri’s momentary reprieve of Otabek. “You fucking asshole—this has been going on since Europeans and you said nothing? What the fuck, Beka, seriously, what the fuck?” He flopped back down on the bed, his forearm thrown across his face. “Two whole weeks and you’ve said nothing.”

 

It sounded worse said starkly like that, Otabek thought, rubbing his forehead. Yuri had gone to Four Continents. To surprise him. Any warmth that revelation might have brought him was negated by the realization that he had truly screwed up by not coming clean with Yuri.

 

They were best friends. Of course, Yuri would expect Otabek to tell him something like this. Yuri got enraged if he thought people were trying to protect him. And that’s exactly what Otabek had done. Had he really screwed up their friendship over this? Technically he hadn’t outright lied to Yuri—he had just evaded the subject of Four Continents for the last two weeks.

 

But a lie of omission was still a lie, the voice in the back of his head reminded him. He sighed, all his frustration with himself evident in the sound. “I’m sorry, Yura. I made a mistake. I fucked up and it ended up screwing you and I can’t apologize enough.” The words tumbled out into the empty silence of the call.

 

He heard an answering sigh from Yuri. “Damn it, Beka. Don’t you ever fucking do that again. Do you know how pissed off I am at you right now?”

 

Otabek nodded, then cleared his throat to give a proper answer. “I might have an idea,” he admitted quietly.

 

“I’m not mad about the trip—I’m mad that you didn’t tell me and now I have to worry that you still aren’t going to tell me the truth about what’s going on and that’s . . . that’s worse. That’s worse even than not knowing. Because if it’s more serious than Victor said . . . if this might make you quit I need to know that, Beka.” Yuri took a deep breath and whispered “I don’t know what I’d do if you quit skating.”

 

“What?” Otabek was startled. “Who said anything about me quitting skating?” He ran his hand through his hair. “What did Victor tell you?”

 

“It doesn’t matter what Victor told me. He told me it wasn’t a big deal—a small meniscal tear—but that’s what he said you told him and I don’t know what’s the truth anymore.”

 

“Yura. It’s a small meniscal tear. Honest. I’m skating. It’s just the jumps that are an issue until it heals.” He paused and then added. “I swear that’s all. _I swear_. Kiril’s even got me using the harness like a baby. It’s mortifying.”

 

Otabek didn’t expect the muffled laugh that followed his words. “Beka, I haven’t used a harness since juniors. You’ve got to look ridiculous.” Yuri said, breathing out and staring at the ceiling of his hotel room. “I’m still pissed at you. But if you get Kiril to videotape you in the harness and send it me I might be convinced to forgive you.”

 

“Deal,” Otabek replied. Humiliation was no object at this point. He owed Yuri this, if not more. His voice softened as he continued speaking. “I can’t believe you flew out to Four Continents, Yura.”

 

“Yeah, well, it was that or spend the week being coached by Georgi,” Yuri answered. It was more than that although he wasn’t about to tell Beka that. Not now at least.

 

“I’m sorry, Yura,” Otabek said again.

 

“Well, you should be. Not only do you keep it from me but I have to hear about it from Victor, of all people. And now I am stuck here with him and Katsudon.” Yuri shook his head. “You owe me more than just a harness video, Altin.”

 

“You’re not going home?” Otabek asked.

 

“What? And pay the change fee? Just to go back to a week of Georgi? No way. At least here Victor will pay for all my food and find me a rink to practice on.” He paused, debating whether to say what was on his mind. But he plowed forward, his face flushing as he spoke. “I’m just pissed I won’t get to spend time with you.”

 

“I’m disappointed about that too,” Otabek said.

 

“I could have come to Almaty instead, if you’d just told me, you idiot.”

 

Otabek’s breath caught. That was the second time Yuri had said that but what did he mean by it?

 

“I thought you were just coming to cheer me on at the competition?” Otabek questioned.

 

If he expected honesty from Otabek he had to be honest himself. Yuri put an arm over his face again and muttered. “I was coming because I needed to see you, idiot.”

 

Otabek sucked in a breath at the words. There was more to this conversation, more that he needed to say but it wasn’t for texts or calls or even Skype.   
  
This was a conversation they needed to have face to face.


	12. Chapter 12

Burdened with the task of now having to obtain credentials for Yuratchka, Victor sought out the help desk in the lobby of the hotel. He stood in line with the other coaches, occasionally scanning his phone but mostly looking around to greet familiar faces.

He spotted Kiril approaching and flagged him down. “Kiril!”

“Hello, Victor.” The Kazakh coach shook hands with him. “Just getting in?”

“No, Yuuri and I have been here for a few days. Yuri Plisetsky decided to join us at the last minute so I am trying to secure credentials for him,” Victor explained, waving his hand vaguely towards the desk.

A puzzled look came over Kiril’s face. “He knows Otabek isn’t here, right?”

“Yes, yes. Disappointed of course, as we all are.” Victor stepped closer to Kiril and lowered his voice, leaning towards the older man. “He is going to be all right, Kiril?”

Kiril hesitated. He knew Otabek and Yuri Plisetsky were close friends—he’d hosted the young Russian at the Almaty rink more than once over the last few years. He also knew that Otabek was seriously considering having Victor become his coach.

Otabek had discussed it with him after the second visit with the doctor. Kiril had to admit he was a little disappointed but not all that surprised. He had been lucky to be Otabek’s coach for as long as he had. The boy had worked with some high profile coaches in the U.S. and Canada before returning to Almaty. At the level he was skating now it was surprising Otabek hadn’t already made a move; it made sense to set his sights higher. The Russian team was the epitome of skating and training with them could be a turning point for him. Kiril didn’t have the resources in Almaty or the depth of experience that could be found at the St. Petersburg rink.

Kiril leaned towards Victor. This was who Otabek was most likely going to have as his coach, after all. He could be open with him. “I think he’ll be fine,” Kiril took a deep breath and then continued. “Otabek spoke to me. I know he has been contemplating a change and I know he is looking to you. I can’t fault him. He’s maturing as a skater and wants to be in control of his progress.” Kiril ran a hand through his hair as he met Victor’s eyes. “I must admit I’m not too used to having skaters do that. I like tighter control.” He shrugged. “I know he respects and has always admired you, Victor. I think you will be an asset to him and I am sure he will impress you with his dedication and drive. I hope you are genuinely considering taking him on.”

“I am quite serious about him, Kiril. If he wants to make the change I will be happy to take him on,” Victor said. “I am glad he spoke to you.” He put his hand on Kiril’s shoulder and leaned in further, his voice dropping to a whisper, a frown of concern crossing his face. “But Kiril, is his injury truly something minor? I spoke to him earlier today, when he was trying to reach Yura and he said it was a meniscus.”

If Victor was going to be coaching Otabek Kiril needed to be forthright. “It’s just a small tear,” he admitted. “But Otabek was being stubborn and trying to push through it. You know how he is.” A laugh escaped him. “Or at least you’ll certainly be finding out, if you don’t know already.” 

“I’m familiar with stubborn,” Victor said, raising one eyebrow.

“I didn’t want to risk him making it worse with a bad landing so I shut him down. He’s not been happy about it but if it gets him to Worlds that’s all that matters,” Kiril said. “I’ve no doubt he’ll be ready for that.”

“Da. You’ve set my mind at ease, Kiril. Yakov did the same thing with me years ago when I had a tear. I drove him crazy with my complaining but he was right in the end.” Victor flashed a smile.

Kiril put his hands in his pockets and studied Victor. From what he had heard of Victor in his youth he was sure Yakov had experienced more than just a little complaining. But Victor had been a skater who had taken control of his programs, his choreography, his skating vision, far earlier than most skaters. It would be good for Otabek to have a coach who understood and sympathized with that drive.

“He wants to do more choreography on his own. I think it will be good for him in the long run but it’s something we butt heads on right now,” Kiril admitted.

“It took a long time for Yakov to trust my instincts with my programs,” Victor confessed. “I usually did what I wanted anyway, despite what he said, but it took some time before things settled.” He grinned at Kiril. “Somewhat.”

Victor’s smile was infectious and Kiril couldn’t help but grin back. It was well known in skating circles that Victor, brilliant legend that he was, was also a handful to coach. It seemed that independent spirits somehow ended up with Yakov. His attempts at rigid control usually resulted in brilliant bursts of skater disobedience. He had a series of champions who exhibited those characteristics, Plisetsky only being the most recent.

But maybe that was the trick, Kiril thought. Maybe that was how Yakov had motivated those rebellious, innovative spirits—channeling their energy into positive change on the ice rather than destructive behavior off it. That iron-clad exterior of his might have been hiding a far more encouraging and empathetic core.

“I think this will be a good change for Otabek. You’ve got experience on both sides of the ice now and I for one am excited to see his progress with you as his coach, Victor,” Kiril said.

“Thank you, Kiril. I am honored to hear you say that and pleased that Otabek is considering this. Give him my best when you speak to him and I wish him a full recovery. He should do fine if he listens to his coach.” Victor winked. “I’ll look for you both at Worlds!” 

_______________________________________________

 

Yuri instantly regretted his decision to join Victor and Yuuri for dinner when he caught sight of Phichit, Leo and Guang Hong Ji as he entered the restaurant. He should have known it would end up like this. The last thing he wanted to do was socialize. He paused at the door, half tempted to walk back out and text Katsudon that he had decided on room service after all.

Too late. He had been spotted by Victor, who was enthusiastically waving him over. Shit. Yuri took his time making his way across to the table, scanning the other skaters as he approached. There was an empty seat between Katsudon and Leo.

He could tolerate that. Leo was nice enough. His taste in music didn’t suck and he genuinely seemed like a decent guy. Not that Yuri wanted to spend time with him but at least he was bearable. He slumped into the seat next to Katsudon.

Guang Hong Ji was seated on Leo’s other side, as usual. Ji always seemed nervous. He was far too quiet in Yuri’s opinion, always seemingly startled by Yuri’s outbursts.

Yuri snorted, surprised at Ji’s twitch at the sound. He should be used to Yuri by now—they had been skating against each other since Juniors. He felt Katsudon kick his foot under the table and Yuri reluctantly turned his attention to greeting the other skaters rather than kicking him back. Well, perhaps he stepped on his foot a little bit in protest. Just a little. 

It was impossible to actively dislike Phichit, Yuri thought. He had tried. Couldn’t do it. The Thai skater was a warm mix of engaging and endearing. It had driven Yuri crazy at first but he grudgingly had to admit Phichit was ok. Not quite a friend but far more than an acquaintance anymore.

There were definitely worse options to spend time with—that cold shithead Seung Gil was somewhere in the hotel as well as the Canadian dumbass. He would definitely have walked out of dinner if they had been present, promises to Victor be damned.

“Hey, Yuri!” Phichit said. “What a fun surprise having you here! First time at Four Continents, right?”

“Yeah. Thought the Katsudon could use someone steady rink side for a change.”

“Didn’t think we’d see you again ‘til Worlds,” Leo added. “Must be kind of nice just getting to watch instead of stressing about the competition, huh.”

“Maybe I’m just scoping you all out in preparation for Worlds,” Yuri said, narrowing his eyes at them, eliciting a squeak from Ji.

Katsudon’s foot hit his under the table again. Ugh. He should have stayed in his hotel room. He was tired, disappointed, still pissed off at Otabek and now Yuuri wanted him to be nice. Maybe he should look into an earlier flight home if he was going to be stuck spending time with all these people while he was here.

“Really, I’m just here to see you all beat J.J.,” Yuri said, thinking that was as good a peace offering as he was willing to give.

It seemed to work as they all laughed at his words. They were quite familiar with his disdain for the Canadian skater. In fact, the only person who seemed to be oblivious to that disdain was J.J. himself.

“It’s too bad Otabek’s not here,” Ji said tentatively. “It doesn’t feel like Four Continents without him.”

Yuri could not have agreed more. Seeing Otabek had been his sole reason for attending. Not having him here was becoming a constant ache.

Victor had been uncharacteristically quiet so far but he spoke now. “I’m sure we’ll see him at Worlds. I ran into Kiril this afternoon and I think they are just taking precautions by having him pull out today.” His eyes found Yuri’s. “I think he’s going to be fine.” He gave a tiny nod at the younger Russian skater.

Yuri nodded back, a bit of the tension he had been holding onto since his conversation with Otabek draining from him at Victor’s words. If anyone would know, it would be Kiril.

“We should take a photo to let him know we miss him,” Phichit suggested brightly. He pulled out his phone and motioned the waiter over to take a photo. “Leave an empty chair there between you and Leo, Yuri,” Phichit said, as Leo made to scoot over. “It’ll be like we’re saving a seat for him—like he’s still part of it all.” 

Phichit relinquished his phone to the waiter and the skaters all squeezed together, the sight of the empty chair next to him making Yuri’s stomach clench. As the waiter took the photo Yuri pointed to the camera with one hand and the empty chair next to him with the other, making sure Otabek knew how hollow it felt without him here.

Otabek saw the notification on his phone after practice. With Kiril in Pyeonchang with the other Kazakh skaters, he basically had the rink to himself. He had worked on his step sequences and spins, keeping his promise to Kiril not to work on jumps every day.

He smiled when he saw the photo and the obvious scowl on Yuri’s face. Otabek felt a pang of regret that he was not there, in the open seat next to him—sharing scathing comments in Russian undertones. But it was good to see Yuri out with the group. It usually took some convincing from Yuuri and Otabek but the young Russian had grown to tolerate their fellow skaters far better over the last year. 

The continuing results of the Katsuki effect, Otabek decided, not comprehending just how much of an effect he himself had on Yuri.

He stared down at the picture on his phone, the smile fading. He needed time with Yuri. Time to themselves, to talk, to just be together. Not late-night Skype conversations, or moments snatched between practices at mutual events, the few hours at banquets surrounded by others vying for their attention. 

It had been over six months since Yuri had made a trip to Almaty and even longer since the last time Otabek had visited St. Petersburg. But things had been evolving, changing since then. There had been an undercurrent at the Grand Prix that Otabek couldn’t recall feeling the year before. It had been lingering, under the surface, all season. The calls were longer, the texts more frequent, the Skype calls more regular. The virtual touch of their hands on the screen was new, since the Grand Prix.

Worlds was in six weeks. It was a tight schedule, with the downtime he had been saddled with, thanks to Kiril and the doctor. He should be able to do it, get himself back in time. Realistically he might not make it to the podium but he should be able to compete. That would be enough, this year.

Yuri’s birthday was in two weeks. Otabek had been entertaining thoughts of surprising him with a visit to St. Petersburg. 

That had been before his knee injury. Before his training schedule had been altered so radically. He could not afford any more time off the ice before Worlds, not if he wanted to truly be competitive.

His eyes scanned over the picture on his phone again. Yuri had obviously wanted to see him enough to make the trip to Four Continents, even with Worlds so close. Otabek wanted to do the same. He needed to—keeping his injury hidden from Yuri was the first thing to have strained their friendship since their meeting in Barcelona. Otabek had been honest and straightforward with Yuri since day one and Yuri had been the same. 

Now Otabek had shaken that trust by keeping secrets. He wasn’t going to let something like that happen again. He needed to repair the damage and face his feelings straight on. No more evasions or omissions. 

There was no way Kiril would agree to let him visit Yuri, not now. Not a chance. Otabek closed his eyes and exhaled. He doubted Victor would welcome a distraction to Yuri this close either.

He would have to wait until Worlds. It didn’t look like there was any other option.


	13. Chapter 13

True to his word Victor had obtained credentials for Yuri and had somehow procured time for them to practice at a private local skating rink. Local being a somewhat relative term.

The fact that the rink was over a forty minute drive away was not a positive as far as Yuri was concerned. It did give him uninterrupted time to complain to both of them about the whole situation though.

"Ugh. I can't believe you made me get up early just to get to this stupid rink," Yuri groused from the backseat of the car Victor had rented to accommodate them. "There wasn't anything closer, old man?"

"It is very generous of them to let us use this facility in the first place," Yuuri said virtuously. "I'm sure Victor let them know how much we appreciate it," he added, eyeing his fiancé fondly.

There was another very obvious downside to the distance also, Yuri realized--having to be trapped in a car with the lovebirds for forty minutes each way. Being in the backseat didn't make it any easier to deal with them--he knew that from previous experience. At least this time it wasn't the damn pink convertible and he wasn't jammed in the front seat with them both. 

He pulled his headphones out and plugged them into his phone. "I'm listening to music and hopefully taking a nap, so keep it down up there," he said. "Try not to kill us driving this thing, old man," he admonished Victor, who was looking harried as he changed lanes yet again, to merge onto the correct roadway as the GPS had instructed him in its remarkably cheery English.

They had arrived at the rink in one piece. Yuuri was already on the ice, skating figures, as he usually did to warm up and settle in. Victor was still by the doors to the rink, with the proprietor, signing autographs and taking photos. It had been a long time since Yuri had seen that particular smile of Victor's--his 'business' face, as Yuri called it. Pleasant, polite and oh so cold, the expression failing to reach his eyes. That was the intangible price added to the rink rental--VIctor's time. 

Yuri finished tying his skate and glided onto the ice. They only had so much time here, despite Victor's star power, so he and Katsudon had to share and make the most of it.

He skated around the periphery of the rink, gaining speed as he followed the crescendo of the music coming at him through his headphones. Yuuri continued undisturbed at the center of the ice. They knew each other's habits well. It did not take them overlong to move from their preferred warm up exercises to their more regimented practice mode.

Yuri, not as pressed emotionally since he was not competing, watched Yuuri out of the corner of his eye. He had learned the other's body language well over the past two years they had skated together. The tell-tale anxiety of the skater that Yuuri had been two years ago was not in evidence but there was still a tightness to his shoulders that Yuri didn't like. Katsudon was usually looser than this.

Yuri sped up and spun into his triple axel. It felt good and he knew he had landed it well. He continued, keeping well away from the other skater. Yuri ran through his triples easily, the motions flowing effortlessly. Time to run through quads next.

Yuuri was doing much the same and to an outside observer he would have seemed flawless but Yuri could tell he still was not relaxed enough. Yuri glanced at the door, where Victor was still being monopolized by the rink owner. He wasn't close enough to see the older skater's expression but the hand Victor raked through his silver hair was information enough. Looked like he wasn't escaping anytime soon. 

Fine then. He'd get Yuuri settled down. His way.

"Oi! Katsudon!" Yuri shouted, thumbing down the volume on his phone and stuffing his earphones in his pocket.

Yuuri looked over at him, startled at being addressed.

Yuri skated to a standstill, ice chips flying out from under his skates. "You're getting to be like the old man," he said, hand on his hip and chin up. "Taking forever to warm up." He tilted his head and narrowed his eyes at the Japanese skater. "See if you can run through this to get you going." Yuri tossed his head and then proceeded to skate the complicated step sequence from Yuuri's old Eros program. 

Flawless, he thought, as he drew near the other skater again and stopped, challenge in his gaze. "Still got it in you, Katsudon?"

A grin appeared on Yuuri's face and he rolled his shoulders. "I'll give it all the Eros I've got," he answered cheekily, before moving off to skate it himself.

Flawless and more passionate than his own version, Yuri had to admit as he watched the familiar moves.

Katsudon's shoulders were looser and he moved more confidently on the ice as he skated past Yuri. There was a glint in his eye as he skated backwards, facing the younger Russian now. "Here's one for you then," Yuuri said, laughing as he launched into the step sequence from Yuri's own Agape. "Think you've still got it in you?" he asked over his shoulder.

He'd never seen Katsudon skate it. Yuri had always thought that program was far more suited to Yuuri but seeing the affirmation of that in front of him took his breath away. There was no denying it--Yuuri's step sequences were always his greatest asset. It's what had drawn Yuri to his skating initially, not that he would willingly admit that out loud.

It was mesmerizing to watch and Yuri remembered again how close their scores had been that last night at the Grand Prix Final, how easily it could have been him with the silver.

But everything was much more of an effort now that Yuri had grown again. Not so much the step sequences but definitely the jumps. He still had not found a consistent center as his body grew.

Clapping caught their attention. A delighted Victor, heart-shaped grin on display, stood rinkside; he had finally escaped the rink owner.

"Beautiful, my Yuuri!" he called out, as Yuuri skated towards him. "And you too, Yurochka. I have never seen you skate my Yuuri's old program." Victor's blue eyes shifted to Yuri, a fondness emanating from them.

Yuri skated towards him as well, drawn by Victor as he so often was. It was in rare moments like this that he acknowledged to himself just how much Victor's words and attention meant to him.

Victor beamed at the two skaters in front of him and then tilted his head thoughtfully, fingertip tapping at his lips. "Do you know the whole of Eros that well, Yura?"

"Could do it in my sleep," Yuri said, before Victor's even wider grin made him realize what exactly he had just revealed. "Well, mostly," he added grumpily, dropping his eyes to the ice as a faint warmth flushed over his face. "I only had to watch Katsudon do it a thousand times," he muttered.

"And you, Yuuri? Do you still remember the Agape choreography?" Victor asked, his gaze shifting to his fiancé.

"Mostly," Yuuri answered truthfully, echoing Yuri.

"Hmm." Tap, tap, tap went Victor's finger. His eyes narrowed. "We have a month until Worlds, give or take, yes?"

"Yes," Yuuri said slowly, his eyebrows drawing together in a frown.

Yuri felt a tingle of apprehension. He knew that expression on Victor's face and from the growing look of alarm on Katsudon's face, so did he.

"Victor . . . " Yuuri said questioningly but Victor interrupted before he could say more.

"Da! It's perfect. And it will surprise everyone!" Victor's glee was undimmed by their confused expressions.

"What will surprise everyone, Vitya?" Yuuri asked slowly, apprehension evident in his voice.

"What are you on about, you old fossil?" Yuri chimed in.

Victor waved his arms in the air as if it were obvious. "Why your exhibition skates at Worlds, of course."

"No, Vitya, I really don't think it's a good idea to change them now," Yuuri protested, his hands making motions at his fiancé.

"There's enough time for the costumes. Irina has worked with less," Victor assured him. His eyes narrowed briefly as he continued. "I expect performances worthy of the podium from you both, as you know." 

The Japanese skater groaned at Victor's words. "What are you saying?" Yuri asked again, a glimmer of horrified realization coming over him. 

"I can't believe I hadn't thought of it before," Victor mused to himself before turning to Yuri and brightly repeating his words from before. "Your exhibition skates at Worlds, of course!" 

Victor pointed at Yuri dramatically, echoing his words from the Ice Castle Hasetsu years before but with the order reversed. "Yura, you will be skating Eros. Yuuri, you will skate Agape!" Victor's laughter echoed in the silent rink. "It's perfect. It will surprise everyone!"

Their groans in unison did nothing to stem his enthusiasm and their vociferous objections only seemed to get him more firmly entrenched in coach mode. "Come now, enough wasting time. If I am going to get you both on the podium at Worlds, we have to focus," he said briskly, eyeing them both critically. "We've only got so much time here. Yura--run through your triples again and then your free skate step sequence." He turned his attention then to his fiancé. "Yuuri--I want to see a run through of your short program step sequence first. Then let's run through the entire short program, but mark your jumps the first time through it, ok?" He leaned forward over the barrier. "You will listen to your coach, da?"

"I can't hear you," Victor called cheerfully as they skated away from him, Yuri's sullen answering "Da" echoing Yuuri's resigned one.

What the hell had he been thinking, Yuri asked himself. Dredging those programs up, just to get Yuuri to relax had seemed such a natural idea. Trust Victor to make him regret it.


End file.
